Beyond the Wine Dark Sea
by Smartmouth62
Summary: In colonial America Isabella meets mysterious Edward Cullen.
1. Chapter 1

A Singular Swan

Sixteen year old Isabella Swan was used to hard work, she had being tilling the half acreage next to their home since just after she was able to walk; Renee Swan had made very sure of that. In addition to tending the garden, Isabella was well versed in animal husbandry. She was often present when their farmhand helped mares to foal in the barn. She bore witness to mares having foals and cows having calves and ewes having lambs and even cats having kittens. Renee was that kind of mother, she wanted her daughter to know all about the proclivities of nature, good and ill and she wanted her daughter to know the value of a good day's hard work.

From the time she was three years old, Isabella and her mother worked on the small farm from before sunrise until midday; while her father, the town's only school teacher, and a deacon of the church, tended to the business of teaching and preaching in the small hamlet of Pfalzburg in the Province of New York in which they lived.

Had fate not been so unkind, Isabella's life might have been easier, for her mother, Renee DuBois Swan, had not been born into an arduous life, quite the opposite in fact. But the fickle hand of fate had turned against Renee and all her fortune was in the hands of people with no blood ties to it. However Renee was not bitter, in fact she learned very quickly how to cope with whatever life gives you. She was quite proud of her ability to not only cope, but to enjoy all of life's simplest pleasures.

Renee DuBois had been born the only daughter of Charlotte and Peter Louis DuBois, whose parents were among the first settlers of this village. Charlotte's father, George Platt, along with eleven others from his regiment, had purchased 45,000 acres from the Lenape tribe and started the town. Because of its fortunate location, just near a deep bend in the Hudson River before it grew increasingly rapid on its way south to the colony of Manhattan, the village had grown fast, quickly populated by eager merchants whose businesses benefited the neighboring farms. Within five years of its purchase, the small hamlet had become a thriving, busy river towne; there was a blacksmith, a tailor, seamstresses, a general store where the farmers could purchase items as varied as seeds, tools, cloths and foodstuffs not available on every farm.

Renee's earliest memories was of walking with her mother, Charlotte, to the various merchants to purchase fabric for dresses and taking them to the seamstress down on Front Street so that she could be measured for a new dress. As a child Renee would get new dresses every month and she wanted for nothing, all things bright and beautiful were hers just for the asking. She'd led the life of a provincial princess, waking late in the mornings, nigh on noon, and being fed breakfast in bed. She was bathed twice per week and her chestnut hair was done up in intricate styles by her doting French nan, Sabine. At Peter's behest, Renee was tutored in languages and was taught the classics in literature; however, Charlotte did not see any benefit in her learning the mathematics and so she was schooled in point work instead.

Unfortunately, Charlotte Platt DuBois, though a loving wife and mother, was not a very hardy woman and after a brief illness she died at the tender age of twenty-six, leaving seven year-old Renee in the care of her grieving husband.

Peter DuBois, a very sentimental and now a very wealthy man, remarried quickly. Less than a year after his beloved Charlotte had passed, Peter returned home from doing business in the Massachusetts Bay Colony, bringing with him a very pretty young woman. He introduced her to little Renee as her nouveau mamain. His second wife, Hannah, was not enamored with Renee, as he had hoped she would be. He had chosen a charming, young bride, thinking that she would be a good mother for his sweet little Renee. Instead Hannah showed herself to be a needy and jealous wife, resenting all the attention that Peter gave his pretty little daughter. Soon, there were expenses and household needs that flourished aplenty, which prevented Renee from getting the dresses and treats to which she had been accustomed.

Things became even worse, three years later, when Hannah gave birth to a son. Peter DuBois doted on little Samuel and carelessly left decisions about Renee's care in the hands of Hannah. At the tender age of eleven, little princess Renee was demoted and had to learn to clean and cook alongside the servants. Hannah took great joy in telling her that it was required that she learn to do these menial tasks, because when it was time to get married, she was told in no uncertain terms, Renee would be leaving her father's home and all the luxury would be left behind. It made no difference to Hannah that practically all her husband's fortune had been inherited from Charlotte's parents.

A short five years after the birth of Samuel, Peter DuBois fell from his horse and was trampled. After three, painful days in bed, he gave up the ghost. Renee was only sixteen. Hannah DuBois took his entire fortune and moved back to raise Samuel near her parents in the Massachusetts Bay colony. She did not take Renee with her; instead she married Renee off to the young school teacher, Master Charles Swan, who had just recently arrived from Colony of Virginia.

While many of the towne folke thought a match with Charles Swan was beneath Renee, Renee herself was not unhappy about her fate; in truth, she had worried much more about the prospect that she would be taken to Massachusetts Bay colony and be married off there; she had heard very frightening things about the Puritans and their reluctance to accept others into their fold. She had also heard about the witch trials of years gone by, wherein many women were burned at the stake or drowned, suspected of being witches and working in the dark arts. Renee was relieved to have been left behind in the town she had been born in, counting herself fortunate to have never set foot in Salem.

It was not concern for Renee's future that caused Hannah to leave her in Pfalzburg, it was the complication and expense of taking an unwanted step-daughter back to Massachusetts; expenses that she hoped to avoid. One week after her husband was buried, Hannah DuBois entrusted Renee's marital arrangements to Widow Cope, and quickly left the towne that she'd never really come to regard as her home.

When Mistress Cope had first told Hannah of a likely match with the young teacher, Renee was relieved. She thought Charles Swan an exceedingly handsome, if somewhat serious young man. He was tall and spare of limb, with soft brown eyes and a quiet, pensive nature. He was only five years older than Renee, twenty-one to her sixteen, but despite his age he seemed mature beyond his years. She liked that he was a scholar and that he knew so very much about so many things; Renee valued education and the acquisition of knowledge for knowledge sake and looked forward to many evenings of illuminating discourses with her soon-to-be-husband.

But whispered warnings from some women soon had her growing concerned about the match. They whispered of pain through wifely duties and Renee worried about what that meant. When she approached the Widow Cope and asked about it, the older lady said that it was a woman's lot in life to suffer for her husband's pleasure and that Renee should think no more on it for there was no use wishing it different. Renee became more than just slightly alarmed, and tried to learn more about the mysteries of marriage, but no explanation was forthcoming. Widow Cope clamped her lips tightly and would talk no more on it.

The first night of their married life was a little difficult; for she'd had no foreknowledge of what it meant to "lie with" her husband, no one had ever explained to her the physical aspect of a marriage. She had never before lived on a farm nor had a pet, so she had never witnessed firsthand the natural drive in the male of the species. That first night she was shocked and shamed when she discovered that Charles Swan expected her to lie naked and do things with him.

The night of her wedding began innocently enough. After the evening repast which Widow Cope and Mrs. Berty had generously supplied, Renee and her new husband sat in the settee in front of the hearth fire. He held her hands gently in his, and murmured how tiny she felt, like a little bird in his bigger palm. She giggled and looked up into his brown eyes, her grey green gaze held so tenderly by his. He leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, which led to gentle kisses on her eyelids. "How beautiful thou art." He whispered as his lips met hers. Heart fluttering in her breast she pulled away and tucked her head to his chest. "Art thou ready for the bed chamber?" he asked gently and she nodded, suddenly realizing that she was very tired indeed.

She started up the narrow stairs and he had followed right behind. Renee had bent to light the candle on the dresser in their bedroom and then turned to find her husband nearly nude, chest bare, clad only in his unders. She was stunned to stillness as he walked toward her and took her hand in his as he led her to the marital bed.

"Oh my, how…no. I cannot…" she stuttered and struggled as he clasped her to his naked chest.

"Would you like my help with the lacing?" her husband inquired mere seconds before he reached behind her to start undoing her gown.

"No, please, no." she gasped as her gown started to fall away revealing her thin shift. "Charles, what on earth are you doing?"

"My wife, I am helping you to undress." He smiled as he bent to kiss her delicate shoulder laid bare by the loosened gown. "You are indeed beautiful and oh so soft." He chuckled.

"But we must not do this." Renee cried and she leapt from the bed heading for the door. Her gown was falling away with each step revealing her shift and her petticoat. Her movements slowed as she became hampered by the loosening clothes, and it gave Charles time to reach her.

"Oh please don't touch me!" she wailed.

"Why ever not?" He asked. Just looking into his face, marred by a puzzled frown caused Renee to break down into uncontrollable weeping.

To his credit, when she had started to weep, Charles stooped, retrieved his clothing and redressed. Fully clothed again he took the weeping girl into his arms. It had taken quite some time to console and calm her. Once her tears had ceased he opened his worn Bible and read some passages to her. He then explained what was meant by the passage in Genesis which included the phrase "to lie with". He then read from Corinthians "wives, submit to your husbands, as to the Lord."

"I had no idea." Renee murmured. "How could this be?"

He did not insist on intimacies that night although he and his new wife did lie side by side in the dark bedroom, each contemplating what the next day would bring.

Renee was glad of the night's reprieve; she could not bear to "submit" to her husband, no matter how handsome and kind. She was mortified that she was required to lie with him in nakedness. Charles was saddened that his new wife was so innocent that she had no idea how much he wanted to touch her soft skin. He vowed to let her sleep on it feeling sure that she would come around once the shock had worn off. That night there was no marital joining, but the nights that followed were another story.

The first few months of their married life was somewhat difficult for them both. Charles Swan took his marital oath quite seriously, and Renee submitted often to her husband's desires. After a few weeks she was no longer shamed by it, but found it rather peculiar that her husband enjoyed their coupling so much, especially since she herself felt no pleasure in it at all. She would lie there beneath him, night after night, detachedly looking at the varied expressions that crossed his visage, wondering what he was feeling when his jaw clenched and his nose flared. She wondered if his groans were from pleasure or exertion, he seemed to work so hard at what he was doing. And when he was done and lying on top of her she would wriggle from under his sweaty weight. She would roll onto her side, her back toward him, feigning sleep so he wouldn't attempt to touch her again.

Charles would lay there heaving for breath, wondering how he could make this easier for his wife. He wanted to bring her as much pleasure, but she would not tolerate his touch upon her body, she would only open her legs and ask him to make haste with it. Charles wanted to love her and shower her with tenderness.

Renee would curl onto herself, hearing him struggle for air and calm. She wished that he would desire her less often. Falling asleep she would begin to wonder if there would ever come a time when he would get his fill; she sincerely hoped so.

But alas, he did not get his fill. Even when her monthlies ceased and her little belly grew round with the child in her womb, he continued to reach for her in the dark. Charles' desire for her body was unchanged by her condition but fortunately, as God would have it, something changed in Renee. It was as though every nerve ending in her body had grown more sensitive and as a result of that, a strange new physical desire for her husband burned through her. She then came to understand the tremors that gripped him, for they now moved through her too. Each stroke of him in her brought her exquisite pleasure and when his tongue suckled at her breast she cried out with wonder as her mind took leave from her body. Minutes afterwards she found herself weeping from the overwhelming pleasure and joy she had felt in the arms of her husband. And he held her to him and soothed her sobs by talking to her in low sweet tones. Renee saw gentleness and love abiding in his soft brown eyes and each time thereafter, when they came together as one, she grew to love him more and more, until she loved him more than she had ever thought possible.

Two months after she turned eighteen, she gave birth to a little girl, whom they named Isabella, and they loved her to the utmost. Isabella was Renee and Charles' pride and joy, and they hoped to give their little girl a good life. And they did. They spoiled her whenever they could, but they taught her responsibility and humility as well. But the greatest gift they gave to her was the knowledge that she was loved. Isabella grew up to possess the best traits of both her parents. She had inherited Renee's charm and beauty and Charles Swan's keen mind, his eagerness to learn everything and his quiet, introspective ways.

Charles Swan worked very hard, trying to educate the town's young men; but the small fees paid by the few students' families was not nearly enough to support the little family of three. Fortunately, when Charles had first come north he had brought enough money to buy a small parcel of land outright on the edge of the hamlet and it had just enough acreage to keep a chicken house, three horses, two milk cows and an ox for tilling the soil. They had a small kitchen garden, big enough to sow herbs, beans, tomatoes, and carrots. In the summer there was an abundance of berries in the field at the bottom of Parson's Hill and Renee and Isabella often spent warm mornings picking them. Renee made the best blackberry preserves and she pickled vegetables from her garden to last through the long winter. The ten shillings her husband earned weekly from the school bought the necessities that the land could not supply.

Their life together was not especially difficult but it was not an easy one either. With only one hired hand, Renee willingly worked the little farm for their daily bread, and as soon as Isabella could understand how to do it, she was put to work weeding and tending the small kitchen garden. Indeed, she milked the cow and collected fresh eggs right alongside the elderly farmhand Mr. Arundell, or Aro, as tiny Isabella had called him. The Swan family eked out a small but steady living, always having more than enough to eat, and more than enough for the household necessities, but not much more for anything else.

Although Renee was a woman with supreme strength of character and will, she was not as strong in body. She would again grow big with child, only to lose each one before their time. After each loss Renee seemed to grow weaker. Charles grew more and more reluctant to plant his seed for fear of losing his darling wife.

By the time Isabella was ten, Renee and Charles had come to accept that she would be their only child. They loved her all the more, for in her they had the best child anyone could ever hope for. They doted on her and on each other and they vowed that they wanted only the very best partner in life for Isabella.

Being the daughter of the town's only teacher had its benefits. Isabella was a learned and an accomplished scholar by the time she was thirteen. Although many of her hours were still spent tending the soil, she always toiled late into the night on her studies. Renee had the foresight to instruct her daughter in French, Dutch and German. Isabella, having a natural aptitude for languages retained all that her mother had taught her and managed to learn Ancient Greek and Latin from her father. Charles had also instructed her in philosophy, mathematics and a bit of alchemy too. He had treasured tomes of varying disciplines of study in his possession and he and his daughter would pore over them accompanied only by the noise of the crackling fire in the hearth and the sputtering candlewick as the flames dwindled. They would only retire to bed when Renee came in to remind them of the late hour.

When she was sixteen years old, the selectmen of the town followed the mandate of the neighboring Massachusetts colony and expanded the only school. They employed Isabella as a teacher for the little girls of the village. The little ones were to be taught their numbers and letters and to read from the Holy Bible. It was only for three hours a day and only for a few months out of the year and they were limited to the pursuit of feminine endeavors such as reading, simple math, speaking French and needlework. Isabella taught the dame school that first winter and spring and into early summer, until the demands of the season forced the school to close so that the children would be free to work on the farms.

Both Renee and Charles were thrilled with their daughter's employment; he was admiring of her intellect, realizing that she had a superior and quick mind, and he felt proud that the town leaders recognized it too. In truth, Charles Swan had spent many a restless night, tossing and turning in his bed worried about Isabella's future. There was no doubt that Isabella was the most beautiful girl in the village, indeed possibly the most beautiful in all the surrounding hamlets. And, due to his and her mother's tutelage, she was easily the brightest and most educated. Even so, a handful of the neighboring families had set their sights on her as a perfect candidate to marry their uneducated rough sons.

Charles, unbeknownst to Isabella, had been approached many, many times, by parents and grandparents who were eager to make a match for their sons. Of all the young men in all the surrounding counties Charles could think of none that was deserving of his lovely daughter. It wasn't just because he was overly protective or just because he was her father and esteemed her most highly because of that relationship. It wasn't because he realized that he would miss her terribly if she were married, but he truly recognized her value and could not set her up in a life that was not befitting of her gifts. He could not and would not waste her to these local yokels.

His worry for her future grew a hundred fold when he was approached by Tyler Crowley's father, Eleazar. Initially he had thought Eleazar Crowley was seeking a betrothal between his oafish son and Isabella. But he was even more appalled and disheartened when he realized that Eleazar desired Isabella for his very own wife. Eleazar was nearing forty years old and had buried three wives already, all three having died after being married to him for just a few years. Charles could not in good conscience accept Eleazar's offer, which angered Eleazar. Unfortunately for Charles, Eleazar was a town selectman who had earned a deserved reputation as someone who did not take kindly to being thwarted. It was said by many folk in the town that if one could bend to Eleazar he would make a great friend; but if one stood against him he would make an even greater enemy.

Charles Swan was not by nature a fearful man, but neither was he a fool, he would put nothing past Eleazer Crowley. He said nothing to his wife for he did not want his darling Renee to fret, so, not a week after Eleazar's visit, Charles had made up his mind and had a proposition for Renee and Isabella. He told his daughter that he had a fine longing to travel back to Virginia to see his family, the family he had left behind so many years ago. His parents had long since passed on, but he did have an older brother and a younger sister who were still living in Virginia.

His brother, Phillip Swan, had married and had children before Charles had moved up north. The younger sister, Mary, had married George Brandon. Her own daughter, Mary Alice, was just a few months younger than Isabella. Isabella listened to her father's plans and was curious about her father's kin and previous life and she agreed that they should go as soon as school had closed. Charles urged Renee not to share the news and he waited until the day prior to their departure to inform the church that he would not be able to fulfill his duties as deacon but would be going away for two months. He then let his farmland to the neighbors, with their assurance that old man Aro would still hold his position. And for the first time since his arrival in the town, Charles Swan had a little extra money.

Eleazar's objectionable offer hanging over his head, Charles was eager to leave Pfaltzburg and travel with his wife and daughter back to his family home in the Colony and Dominion of Virginia, which he hadn't set foot in for almost twenty years. In the back of his mind he was hopeful of finding a good match there for Isabella, and if he couldn't he was determined that she would find a position as a tutor for the offspring of some wealthy family. He did not want her returning with them to that town.

Their final destination would be the Swan farm, but first they would have to travel to Williamsburg by ship. They would stay in that fine town for two nights only and then journey on to Rich Mount, a small town forty miles west northwest of Williamsburg.

It was early May when they departed from Pfalzburg and boarded the good ship _Fortune's Keep_. They had good weather and made good time, hugging the coast and turning at Cape Charles into Chesapeake Bay. From there it was a short carriage ride to Williamsburg, where they would stay for the night with some distant cousins. Charles was impressed by the changes in the Colony of Virginia, since he had last been there. The lieutenant governor was now Sir William Gooch, who had succeeded Alexander Spotswood, he had imbued the colony with an energy and spirit with his leadership. It had grown from an untidy scraggly little colony to a mini England, very political and very much for Crown and Church.

His first cousin, Eliza, and her husband William Newton, welcomed them into their home. The housemaid led the way upstairs, showing Isabella into the most charming bedroom she had ever seen, or even imagined. The first thing her eyes rested on was a mahogany four poster bed covered in pale lavender linens, placed between the two long windows, dressed in curtains of white muslin. A charming little writing desk and chair stood under one of the windows, and under the other was a trunk with a quilt on top. A rocking chair was set near the fireplace of the left wall with an oval rag rug under it. Along the right wall a bureau and dry sink took pride of place; to Isabella the bedroom was sheer luxury.

The Newtons lived quite elegantly in this stately home on Williamsburg's outer reaches. Isabella had never seen such opulence, columns at the front door, beveled glass windows and doors, gleaming mahogany and sumptuous fabrics on the settees. She wandered around the downstairs rooms in awe of everything. She stepped through the doors onto the balcony and sighed. The grass was greener here and the early evening air smelled so fragrant with the scent of apple blossom and magnolia.

Master Michael Newton found her in the parlor as she gazed up at a portrait of some long dead ancestor, and introduced himself. After a short conversation he rang for some refreshments. Isabella declined the offer of brandy and asked for some tea. Michael teased her about her simple country ways and she smiled with him although she was all too aware of the underlying disdain. Minutes later Charles and Renee joined them followed by Eliza and William. After Eliza filled Charles in on what had been going on with the Swans since his departure, they sat down for dinner. William Newton was an importer of food stuffs from the Caribbean, namely molasses, sugar, lemons and limes. With the urging of his son, Michael, William had become keenly interested in importing another type of cargo from the Caribbean, namely slaves. Charles, Renee and Isabella were horrified at the thought, and Charles said so, which did not sit well with the young Master Newton.

But Master Newton had more interesting things on his mind than discussing the morality of the slave trade with his cousin, the too upright, too morally constrained deacon Charles Swan of Pfaltzburg, New York. Michael's thoughts were taken up by the young and graceful beauty that was his third cousin, Isabella Swan.

Knowing he had only two days in which to woo Isabella before she and her family set out for Rich Mount, Michael invited them to accompany him the following evening to a ball being given by some of the town merchants for important guests who had just lately arrived from England, by way of Jamaica.

He spoke enthusiastically about the guests of honor, Carlisle Cullen and his younger brother, Edward, who were as wealthy and successful as they were mysterious. They exported sugar and rum from their many Caribbean plantations, as well as exotic spices and wood to the colonies. Importers and trades people vied with each other to do business with the Cullens, for they had the finest reputation for fairness and honesty. Strangely enough they had just as strong a reputation for ruthlessness when crossed, it was said by many that the Cullens honored good business men and deplored cheats. It was also said that you could rest assured that your shipment would make it to port, for not one of their cargo ships had ever been boarded by pirates. It would seem as if the dreaded bands of cutthroat pirates feared the Cullens' wrath more than they feared the devil himself.

Michael Newton had heard enough about the two men and his appetite was sharp to make their acquaintance and do trade with them. He wondered if they traded in human cargo, he had no idea if they did, but he suspected that successful businessmen with a reputation for ruthlessness would not have an aversion to making their wealth in any area.

He suggested to Charles and his wife that they bring along Isabella to accompany them as there would be plenty young women in attendance. Charles was not certain if this type of ball was something they should participate in. He had no head for business and while he saw the fruits of the Newton's labor he was morally opposed to business men who had no morals when it came to humanity. He was just about to say a polite "no thanks" when Master Newton assured him that is was a ball for Acquaintanceship and that Isabella was assured of meeting many eligible young men there. Renee and Charles exchanged looks, and with a deep sigh Charles agreed to postpone for one day his trip to Swan farm.

Most of the following day was spent in preparation for the upcoming ball for Eliza Newton was insistent that Isabella's simple gown would never do. "Tis not a country ball dear cousin, 'tis important to present thyself in thy best raiments and finery."

Renee explained that they had not brought any finery with them on their journey. Isabella smiled to herself thinking that they had not left any such finery behind either. Eliza assured them it was a simple matter to address. Mrs. Weber, the upstairs maid, would be able to take in one of Eliza's silk gowns for Isabella to wear.

They decided that the peach silk would suit her coloring best. And after much thought she decided that Isabella's pink petticoat would serve quite well with just a touch of lace to dress it up. Renee would easily fit into another of Eliza's gowns, the blue one. When Renee demurred, insisting that it was not necessary for her to dress well, Eliza insisted that it would not look good on the Newton's if the Swan family were not dressed appropriately. Renee's lips tightened ever so slightly, but she smiled politely and acquiesced.

Late that afternoon the maid helped Isabella into her clothes. She first put on borrowed silk stocking which tied with ribbons at her slender thighs and slipped her feet into silken slippers. Over this she wore her own best linen shift which had been embellished that day with additional lace at the neck and at the elbow length sleeves. Next were the bodice stays which came just below her bosom. The stays pushed her breasts up and Isabella prayed that the borrowed gown would cover the exposed flesh, for she could not imagine going out in public looking like this. Over that she wore the borrowed hooped petticoat which tied around her waist, not unlike an overly large apron, to fall just above her knees. She had never worn such a garment before and wondered how she would be able to sit in it. The maid showed her how to sit at the edge of the seat and clasp her hand to keep it down.

Finally the opulent silk gown went over it all, and while it provided more coverage it still revealed most of her cleavage. The maid then tucked a lace kerchief above it so it would not show too much. Isabella declined the lace cap that the maid held out to her. She had washed her hair earlier in the day and she pinned it up and the maid adorned it with two pretty ribbons. All in all she was tucked in tight but not too uncomfortably. She smiled as she wondered how her father was faring, she very much doubted that Charles would bow as easily to any request that he dress in "finery".

Indeed Isabella was proved right when she and Renee appeared in the parlor early that evening. Charles was there clad in his deacon's outfit of black breeches, black waistcoat and open coat over a simple white linen shirt. His leggings were white and his shoes were polished to a high shine as was his dark hair. Renee took a deep breath and walked up to her husband, laying her hand onto his chest. "Husband mine, thou art as handsome as the day we wed." She smiled.

"As are ye, dear wife." He smiled at his heart's desire, before looking at his only child dressed in her apricot silk gown over the lace adorned petticoat. "Isabella, I fear that I will lose ye tonight to some handsome young whelp."

"Not likely father. For I'm sure there shall be many there more beauteous than I. For all my finery I am a simple country girl. I have nothing that any young man would want."

Renee tisked as her husband walked over to hug his dearest daughter. "Not only are ye beautiful in face, but even more so in mind, my dearest one. I fear that no man shall ever deserve your hand. At least none of these young fools. And though an older, wiser man may appreciate thy intellect, I have no desire to see you wed to some old buzzard." He sighed as he released her from his embrace. "If only there was such a one for you who had youth and maturity."

"Why all this sudden talk of marriage, father? I am happy with my lot. I have a good life in Pfaltzburg living with my wonderful parents. I enjoy teaching, I want for nothing else. Mayhaps I will never leave my home and always abide with thee. I look forward to being a helpmeet to you and mother until you are both old and grey."

Charles Swan chuckled. "That is not the life for you dearest. Thou were born for better things, and Pfaltzburg is too full of wolves." Charles was ready to show his hand. "It is for that reason we are here dearest one. Eleazar Crowley has asked for thy hand in marriage."

Renee gasped in surprise and Isabella shook her head and laughed. "Surely he does not think Tyler is ready for marriage. He is such a foolish boy, always carousing and getting into scrapes. If not for his father he would have been pilloried for causing that fire in the woods behind the church. I cannot imagine being married to such a one as him."

Charles shook his head. "You are misunderstanding me, my dear. Eleazar does not wish for you to marry Tyler, he desires to marry thee himself." Isabella blanched as her father continued. "Eleazar was furious when I told him that you are too young to be married. He promised me that he will not wait past thy next birthday. For that reason I brought us to Virginia. Hoping that we may find you a suitable marriage and if not then a position as a tutor or governess in some wealthy household."

"Father it is highly unlikely that many Virginia families are in need of a female tutor." Isabella stated pragmatically. "And it is unlikely I will make a match in one night."

Renee hugged her daughter. "Do not worry child. All will be well. I foresee a charmed life for thee, thou hast no need to fear." At that moment young Newton joined them, dressed in enough lace and silk to put Isabella's finery to shame.

He informed them that they should go on ahead of his parents who will be taking another carriage in a few minutes. "I do not wish to be late meeting the Cullens." He stated. "It is of the utmost importance that I speak with one or both before others get to them."

He held his arm out for Isabella to take as he ushered them to the front of the house where the larger carriage was waiting.

If Isabella thought the Newton's home was elegant she had no words to describe the huge estate where the ball was being held. "Fieldstone Manor is one of the finest homes in Virginia." Young Newton told them. He informed them that it was once considered for the governor's house and it is far finer than that abode. But alas it is too far from the center of town and it was decided against.

Cousin Newton escorted her into the ballroom, followed by her parents. The wall sconces and candlelit chandeliers threw a golden light on everyone and everything in the large room. Isabella's eyes scanned the painted ceiling and the silk clad walls. It was a warm May night and the beveled French doors were open to the wide verandah. Her eyes scanned the room coming to rest on a pair of amber eyes set in an inordinately pale, handsome face. She drew in a breath, surprised to see that although he was speaking to his companion the golden eyes remained fixed on her.

His auburn hair was swept back into a beribboned pony tail. The forehead was high and smooth, the brows were thick and masculine above the golden gaze. His nose was strong and straight, the nostrils slightly flared above his deep rose lips. As she stared at that mouth, the tip of his tongue swept moisture along the soft crevice and Isabella suppressed a shudder of fear and excitement. If she did not know better she would have said that his jaw was carved from marble, it was strong and sure and clenched tightly. She saw him swallow and her eyes followed the movement in his throat as it disappeared into his lace cravat.

"I believe those are the Cullen brothers." Newton gestured with a slight thrust of his chin. "The one with the darker hair is the younger Mr. Cullen." Her cousin then dropped his voice and whispered to no one in particular. "I hear the young women swoon for his handsome looks but he does not give them a second look. It is said that he has a mistress in the islands, I believe she is a mulatto." Isabella's gaze had drifted upwards as her cousin spoke and her eyes were once more surveying the handsome face. His lips curled into a sneer as if he had heard what her companion had said, but his eyes, his eyes seemed to be looking into her very soul. With strength of will she had not thought she possessed she tore her gaze away and looked around some more, trying to escape the penetrating eyes. Moments later when she felt brave enough to look again she saw a different pair of amber eyes looking questioningly at her. She scanned the room and the younger Cullen was nowhere in sight. Her cousin made his excuse and left the Swans to approach the other man.

Isabella turned to her parents, her cheeks flushed and her heart still beating somewhat erratically. "Mother, did you wish to grab a bit of fresh air on the verandah? It is quite warm tonight is it not?"

Renee looked at her daughter with concern, "You do look flushed my dear. Why don't we go outside? Your father will fetch us a cup of cider, hmm?"

Mother and daughter moved gracefully toward the nearest set of doors, and as they were about to do so they pass by the group of men which included young Newton and the older Cullen brother. Newton reached out and took Mrs. Swan's elbow. "Cousin, please stop a moment so that I may introduce you to Mr. Carlisle Cullen."

"Mr. Carlisle Cullen please to meet my cousin Renee Swan and her daughter Isabella. They have just come from New York Colony. Renee, Isabella this is Carlisle Cullen of Bermuda Colony."

The women curtsied as Carlisle smiled. His smile lit up his pale features and his tawny golden eyes were watchful seeming to miss nothing. "It is a pleasure good ladies. I wish to introduce you to my younger brother, but I do not see him about just now."

Rene smiled and answered. "Perhaps later, thank you Mr. Cullen. Isabella is a little warm and we shall be going outside on the porch to get a bit of air. Please do forgive our haste."

He bowed to them and smiled in understanding. As they turned towards the doors they heard Michael Newton broach the subject of doing business with the Cullens.

They were out in the warm May air for just a few moments before Charles joined them drinks in hand. Isabella took a sip and wandered away from her parents and stopped at the railing. She attempted to calm herself as she looked out onto the gardens. She tried not to think about the expression on the face of the younger Cullen brother. The way he had trapped her within his gaze had unsettled her for she felt sure he had, for some unknown reason, taken an immediate dislike to her. And the way he had looked at her made her fearful and excited enough to become lightheaded. She stood on the balcony she calmed and laughed at her own foolishness, how silly of her to imagine that a stranger could affect her to that extent. Obviously her loss of breath was the direct result of the tightness of her bodice and the stuffiness of the many warm bodies milling about in the ballroom.

As the minutes passed, Isabella relaxed and felt much more at ease. Her mind again went back to the face of the younger Mr. Cullen. The look he had given her had shaken her to her core. The flare of his nostrils, the tension in his jaw and the lick of his lips had seemed almost feral.

Just then a lovely smell assailed her nostrils, so alluring and enchanting that she turned on her heel to find its source, only to see Mr. Edward Cullen leaning against the column. Her instinct in that moment was two-fold, one part of her wanted to get as close to the scent as possible, but the other part of her found something in his eyes forbidding. He swallowed again and continued to stare at her, making no move to introduce himself. As it was earlier in the ballroom, she was once again caught in his bold gaze, sure that he was trying to find the window to her soul. Again his tongue swept over his lips and his nostrils flared. It again occurred to her that he was both beautiful and very dangerous.

"So, Edward, have you met the lovely Isabella Swan?" The voice of Carlisle Cullen reached her ears but she could not see where he was standing for she was unable to tear her gaze away from his brother's amber eyes.

Edward Cullen straightened from the column and walked over to where his brother was standing in the glow of the light spilling from the ballroom. "I have not yet had the pleasure, dear brother." His voice was deep and warm, so thrillingly male.

"Isabella Swan of New York, this is my younger brother Edward Cullen."

Isabella curtsied and as she straightened Edward reached for her hand, clasping her hand loosely. "Miss Swan, 'tis a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise, sir. I hear you and your brother are from the islands."

"It is so. We were born in London, but have found our fortune in the Caribbean. We only venture to the colonies once a year to do some trade, but we prefer to stay on our islands."

"Islands? You live on more than one?"

Carlisle Cullen answered her. "Yes. We have a home and offices on Bermuda, and in Jamaica. But we make our real home on the twin islands a few miles due south. I live on L'isle du Foret and Edward lives on L'isle des Oiseaux."

Isabella was intrigued. "I've only read a little about the exotic Caribbean Islands. Poison fruits and dark magic and native people who are cannibals and wear bones as jewelry. Tell me is it as wild and dangerous as the tales?"

The brothers looked at each other and hesitated. Then Edward Cullen bent his head in assent. "It is even more dangerous than you have read, Miss Swan. The things that happen in the islands are fraught with mystery and are sometimes inexplicable. But for what it's worth the danger is not from the natives but rather from nature. I must concur that the real danger is indeed dark and deep and still unknown to most."

Lost in his eyes again, Isabella drew a breath; surprised still by how his eyes continued to captivate her.

They were interrupted by Carlisle suddenly speaking. "Ah brother, I see the elder Mr. Newton headed this way with his son. I expect that he will try to convince me to join them in the business venture that his son has proposed. I must make it clear we do not trade in human cargo."

"Do that, brother. Tell them that not only do we not trade in flesh, we do not ever do business with those who do. I cannot abide it when greed usurps morals, when supposed gentlemen do evil and then go to church on Sunday and pray to God. Such hypocrisy!"

"Neither do I condone it, but I do not wish you to lose your temper. Stay and entertain this lovely young lady. I will inform them of our ways. Will you please excuse me Miss Swan."

"But of course, Mr. Cullen."

And as he took his leave she realized that his younger brother still held the hand she had originally offered in greeting. "Tell me, Miss Swan, what brings thee here to Williamsburg at this time of year when many are fleeing the heat and enjoying the cooler climes of the hill country?"

"We will only stop here for a day or two. My father was born here in Virginia and he wanted my mother and me to meet his relatives. We will be leaving Williamsburg in the morning and journeying to Rich Mount and from there we'll go on to visit with the Swan Family of Shenandoah."

"Oh. So you will not be here very long." He seemed to relax and breathe a relieved sigh.

"No sir. We arrived the day before yesterday and we leave early tomorrow."

His hands moved to encircle her wrist and he rubbed his thumb absentmindedly across the pulse beating there. "Well fortune smiles on us, for had the the ball not been set for today we may not have met."

Isabella grew warm and flustered at his intimate caress on her skin and tried to remove her hand from his hold, only now registering how unusually cool his touch felt against her warm skin. He tightened his grip ever so slightly and again looked into her eyes as though he was trying to read her soul.

"Your hand, sir. It holds me too tightly." Isabella breathed, looking up at him through her lashes, mortified by this intimacy.

He seemed to get a hold of himself and he reluctantly surrendered her wrist. "Please forgive me, my lady. I forget my good manners."

"It is of no consequence, sir." She assured him politely, knowing it was of grave consequence indeed. She only hoped no one else had seen how he had been touching her wrist.

Isabella saw her parents standing across the wide porch talking with her cousin Eliza and waved them over. Edward Cullen followed her gaze and then his eyes returned to her. "So are your parents here seeking to make a suitable match for thee?" He asked her quietly. Isabella was startled by his acuity and then it occurred to her that there were many parents at the ball who were also seeking a match for their daughters. He surprised her even more when he whispered, "Perhaps there is some older suitor back home who has asked for thy hand and will not take no for an answer?" She nodded astonished by this young man. How could he know such things?

"How do you know this?" she inquired wonderingly.

He shrugged and looked at her parents. "Are there not always too many suitors for a beautiful young lady? And is it not often the case that the oldest one who has the most influence wins out over the others?"

"I suppose." She unconsciously sighed, thinking that perhaps her plight was not so unusual and that maybe her parents' hope to avoid a match with Eleazar Crowley was destined to fail.

His eyes were on her face again. "Do not fret Miss Swan. I am sure the situation will come out fine for thee. You seem to have a charmed life." His words echoed those of her mother's.

Her parents joined them at that moment and Edward introduced himself. After a few minutes discussion about the weather and the political climate, Michael Newton left his father's side and joined them.

"Please excuse my manners, dear Cousin Isabella, but I noticed you have not had the opportunity to dance. Will you do me the honor?" He held his arm out to her and she nodded. As he guided her into the ballroom Isabella hurriedly informed him of her lack of skills. "I am afraid that I do not know the latest dances, cousin. Indeed I have never danced, only observed."

"Do not fear, Isabella. You need only follow my lead and the actions of the other women beside you. The music will draw you in." The violins started and he led her to the floor to dance the minuet. It was slow enough for her to follow and when the music changed to the even slower tempo of the Viennese Waltz he took her in his arms and led her through it. After a third dance Isabella gracefully made her adieu, insisting that she should return to her parents and made a quick detour outside for the cooler air.

She made a hasty retreat into the darkest corner of the verandah so she could take off the lace kerchief at her breast, exposing her bosom to the cool air. Grateful that she had found a dark, solitary corner under the wisteria, she patted her brow with the kerchief, wishing that she'd had the foresight to borrow a fan from her cousin Eliza. She was alone for only a few minutes when she was assailed again by Edward Cullen's smell. It was more fragrant than that of the overhanging wisteria and she did not have to turn around to know that he stood right behind her.

"Miss Swan, I have brought you a cooling drink."

"Thank you sir, but you have me at a disadvantage." She murmured, refusing to turn around to face him, embarrassed by her state of undress.

"How so?" he inquired and Isabella felt sure that he was not one to set much store in decorum.

"Sir, I have had to remove my kerchief in order to cool off." She replied, mortified that he had caught her in such a vulnerable position.

He reached around her and laid the little silver cup on the stone railing in front of her and resumed his stance behind her. "You have no need to be ashamed. Even without the kerchief, you are more modestly covered than many others in the ballroom."

"That may well be Mr. Cullen, but I am not used to revealing so much." Her face was flushed and she was grateful that he could not see her blush.

"That is a pity for you are enchantingly beautiful."

She hurriedly fixed her kerchief to her bosom and turned around, only managing to raise her eyes to gaze at his cravat. "Sir, I do not set much store in outward appearances and sweet phrases." She retorted quickly, and then continued more softly, "And I fear that your words are mere flattery, for I know well that I am no beauty."

"But you are, quite so. Do you not own a mirror?" He inquired wonderingly.

She shook her head. "I must confess that we are simple people from a small towne. We enjoy the beauty of nature, the dawn, the moonlight and the stars above; there is nothing more beautiful than the colors of the Almighty's world. I cannot imagine owning something so frivolous as a mirror, just to gaze at my appearance. My face is what the dear lord made it; flaws and all."

He reached for her chin and tipped it up until her eyes met his. "Miss Swan I have a discerning eye." Edward Cullen informed her softly. "I see every flaw in nature, and I assure you that you have none."

They stood there in silence, Isabella had no words in her head with which to answer him. His next words were uttered so quietly that she was not even sure he said them or if she imagined them. "But I must confess that I may be swayed by your unique fragrance, for it goes to my head. I cannot think straight when you are near." At that he drew nearer until she could feel him through her clothes. He inhaled as if smelling the sweetest bouquet.

"Please sir, do not say such things to me." Isabella closed her eyes and stammered, completely overcome by his nearness. "I have no desire to be a rich man's dalliance." Her heart was beating as though it were a bird on the wing she felt certain he could feel the beat of it across the inches that separated them. And truthfully she was afraid of him, she felt sure his dogged pursuit of her meant that she was wading into dangerous waters.

There was a long uncomfortable silence and she felt her words echoing in her head. His voice, when he finally responded was clipped and cool. "Please forgive me, Miss Swan, I got carried away. I did not mean to offend thee. I will leave now." He released her chin and she felt rather than heard him move away. Once his scent was gone she relaxed, only then noticing that when he'd been standing near the air around her had cooled down quite a bit. Now that he had left, the mugginess had seeped into her clothes once again. How strange.

They made an early night of it, leaving the ball well before eleven on the clock. Renee had a headache and Isabella confessed to her mother that she could not bear the stiff corset about her middle for too much longer. They took their leave in the smaller carriage, apologizing to the Newtons for the early escape. Eliza was quite sympathetic, "My dear Renee I quite understand for when I was in your condition I was never able to keep my eyes open past sunset."

Renee flushed and they took their leave. The carriage ride was silent, Charles held Renee close to his side. "Dear wife, are thee unwell or are thee with child?" he inquired.

Tears sprang to Renee's eyes. "I fear that I am with child. I feel quite ill and I am so tired." And she started to weep with exhaustion.

"Dear, do not cry. It will all turn out well." Charles reassured his wife. Isabella reached across and held her mother's hand as she drifted to sleep in the arms of her concerned husband.

Isabella tried to ease his worried mind. "Do not worry, dear father. I will do my part to make things easier for her when we return home. She can take to bed and I will do all the chores."

He sighed and smiled gently at his daughter. "I must worry because being with child takes such a toll on her health. I hate to see her suffer so. And daughter, I do not think you will be able to help your mother this time."

Isabella reached out smoothed her father's worried brow. "Of course I will. Perhaps I can work less hours at the school and remain with her more."

He stilled her hand and held it to his heart. "My dearest Isabella, though I love thee, I hope that ye do not have to return to Pfaltzburg, for that would surely mean a match with Eleazar Crowley. That would break our hearts."

"Do not worry so. I will not marry that man; nothing he says could persuade me."

"A man such as Crowley does not take no for an answer."

"I do not have to take him if I am already promised to another. We can tell him that I am betrothed to someone here in Virginia. He will not be able to disprove it. I am more concerned for mother. I think there may be treatments for what ails her. Maybe a visit to a country midwife would help. I have heard that raspberry leaf tea and nettle soup would help in this time." Isabella whispered to her father.

Her father nodded and held his darling wife closer. Seeing them holding on to each other Isabella made two vows. One, she would only agree to marry someone she could love, the way her parents loved. And two, she would seek a remedy for her mother. Because, she realized, her father would never be able to survive the loss of his beloved wife.

Later that night Isabella sat at the window seat looking out across the moon-dappled meadow behind the Newtons' home. Having removed the pins and ribbons which had kept her curls in place, she sat brushing her hair before retiring to bed. Her mind tortured by concern for her mother, wishing that she could do something to help.

_Would I were a doctor_, she thought to herself, _I would be able to do so much more for her_.

The soft breeze moved the leaves of the willow outside her window and all of a sudden she felt very sleepy. The call of her bed was irresistible, and after blowing out the lone candle, she laid herself on the soft linens and drifted into slumber.

For all her concern over her mother, the evening's activities had rendered her so tired that her fall in to sleep was complete and deep. When her dreams came they were unexpected.

_**The musings of her tired brain called her back to the ballroom where she had first laid eyes on Edward. The setting was the same, yet the circumstances were vastly different. In her dream she was in her long night shift as she drifted through the French doors into the ballroom. There were but a few candles that lent an eerie glow to the walls. She could hear the music, but there were no musicians to be seen, and she wandered through the stately home searching for the source of it. **_

_**She left the ballroom behind only to enter parlor where the sound of the music grew louder. Through the parlor door she entered a dimly lit hall, with a grand curved staircase that led to an even darker upstairs. She gathered her gown in her hands as she climbed up and up. With each upward step the music grew louder until it seemed to be as one with her heartbeat. As she crested the top of the staircase a door at the very end of the hall opened. She was drawn to a figure standing there and the closer she came she could see it was Edward. His face had the same feral look as earlier.**_

_**He looked fierce like a soldier just returned from battle. He looked hungry like a man starving for something to fill his bones. He looked resigned like a criminal who knew his time of avoiding the gallows had run out.**_

_**His ferocity made her frightened, his hunger made her heart race, but his look of surrender made her heart break. As she hesitated wondering whether to walk back down the stairs, he raised his hand and held it out for her and without another thought she released the hem of her nightgown and hurried to his side fearing that he would change his mind. As she reached him the music filled the room and he swung her into his arms. It felt as though she were flying, it was nothing like dancing with Michael Newton. Indeed her feet barely touched the floor as they danced. They danced endlessly around the room until the music ended and they walked to the balcony. She wondered at his strength and stamina for he carried her weight and did not seem to find it arduous. "You are not like other men, are you?" She asked.**_

_**He looked at her unsmilingly and shook his head as if it pained him to admit it. "No, I am not."**_

"_**What are you?"**_

"_**Does it matter?" he asked in return. "You are unlike any other woman that I've ever known. I do not question it. I only know I have need of you."**_

"_**You have need of me?"**_

"_**Yes. I need to be near you. You have awakened something in me; a desire to stop and rest and just be. I have not felt that before. My better self says I should not take what is meant for another, more normal man, but the selfish creature that I have become cannot let you go." He bent to her neck and his open mouth hovered over her pounding pulse. "Tell me do you want this?"**_

_**A soft "yes" slipped from her lips.**_

"_**Good. Because I do not think I would stop, even if you were to send me away."**_

A sound awakened her and her eyes opened. The dream had been so real that she was surprised to find herself in bed at the Newton's. The open window was bringing in fresh, clean air but his scent lingered all around the room. Isabella sat up and looked around the room, silver in the moonlight. No one was there but her, but she heard the words float in on the air from the outside. "I have need of thee."

"Isabella?" Her mother stood in the open doorway, small candle in hand.

"Mother, what is wrong?" Isabella jumped from her bed and ran to her mother's side, reaching for her cold, trembling hands. "Are you unwell?"

"No, no. I had the oddest dream and I had to come and see that you were all right." They walked until they reached the corner of the bed where Renee sat down gratefully.

Isabella hugged her mother's all too slender frame. "As you can see, I am fine. What was the dream?"

"You were kidnapped, taken by a ghostly pirate sneaking into your room in the night. It was so real; I raced in here to make sure you were still here."

They both started to laugh at the thought. Isabella had no thoughts of sharing her own odd dream with her mother as it would probably alarm her even more.

"It was just a dream, brought on I'm sure by the excitement of a new place and an exciting ball." Isabella reassured her mother with a smile.

Renee dabbed at her damp eyes. "I've always worried about you, since you were little. Maybe because of all the babies I've lost, but I've worried that I would eventually lose you too." Renee gave a watery smile.

"You won't ever lose me, mother. I am yours for life. I cannot ever be apart from you or father."

Renee patted her daughter's hand, humbled by her innocent declaration. "Alas, Isabella, that is not the way of the world. One day soon, you might be living far from us. You are of marriageable age, father is seeking a suitor and it is unlikely that suitor would want to return with us to Pfaltzburg. You are likely to remain here, never to see us again." At that Renee started to sob. "I will miss you so, my little girl."

Isabella's tears welled up in her eyes. "Mother, do not worry. It is not good for you." Isabella and her mother hugged for a long time. "Mother, maybe we should consider accepting Eleazar Crowley's proposal. At least it would keep me near to you and father."

Renee shook her head in horror. "That would be worse than losing you, my dear. He is not a very nice man. It is cause for concern that he has buried three wives. We cannot allow it." They sat quietly each to her own thoughts. Renee sighed and got up, giving her daughter one last embrace. "I should let you get some sleep. I will pray on it, and hope to God things will work out."

Isabella sat for a long time after her mother's departure pondering her fate. She had never before wished that she was born a boy, but now she did. Had she been born male, she would have been able to seek her own way in the world, deciding her own future. As a boy she would have had the freedom to make decisions. She might even have studied medicine or law. She would have been free of obligation to make a good match.

Feeling a chill she got up and went to close the window, kneeling on the trunk. She saw him then, standing under the willow tree. His tall figure caused her heart to leap in her breast almost cracking through her ribs.

"Edward Cullen?" She whispered disbelievingly into the night.

His pale, beautiful face was ghostly in the moonlight. Then he smiled, tripping her heart again. In the blink of an eye he was beside her standing in the dimness of her bedroom. "Isabella?" His moist open mouth at her neck again, as before in the dream.

"Is this all just a dream?" she whispered dazedly.

"Yes." he whispered into her skin. "This life you now have is but a dream. When I take you, you will awaken to immortality. You will want for nothing. You will have all your desires met." Grasping her long, dark hair in his tight fist, he licked and sucked at her neck, holding back just enough not to hurt.

"What will you do to me?" she whispered achingly aroused and supremely fearful.

He undid the ribbon at her throat, pushing it off her shoulders until the linen fell and rested on the curve of her hips. He groaned thickly, bending to skim her tight nipples with his slightly parted lips. He moved and licked the thin skin above her painfully beating heart.

"I will take you, make you mine forever."

"T...take me?"

He slipped his hands along her sides and skimmed her nightdress off her hips, taking the bloomers down with them. His long fingers reached between her thighs, stroking the tender flesh between her dark curls, hearing her delighted gasp.

"I will take you here." he flicked her nub. "Then I will take you here." He bent and lightly nipped at her pounding pulse. "Then you will be mine."

Isabella's knees buckled and he carried her to her bed, laying her naked body gently on the cool sheets. "Now?" she begged.

He smiled, stroking a long finger between her flushed breasts. "No. I am still somewhat civilized. And I have no desire to break your mother's heart. Although had she not arrived when she did I may have done so. Tomorrow I will pay a call on your father."

He bent and kissed her soft lips. "Tomorrow our lives begin."


	2. Chapter 2

A Pair of Handsome Gentlemen

Isabella Swan slept undisturbed well into the late morning, roused only when her mother came to her bedside. "Isabella, dear, do wake up. We have to ready ourselves to leave for Rich Mount. We should have been gone by now."

Alarmed by the bright sunlight streaming into the room, for she was used to waking when the sun had barely made it over the horizon, Isabella panicked. "Have I slept in?"

Renee nodded. "Yes. The Newton's have long had their morning meal; it is well past eight on the clock."

Isabella scrambled out of bed and as she stood she glanced down. Her attention was suddenly taken up by the red stain low on the front of her white gown. "Oh my goodness!"

Renee gasped. "Oh child, thy nightdress is soiled! I hope the sheets have not been stained." Her mother whipped back the silk coverlet and quickly looked over the white sheets. "Oh thank goodness, thy monthly must have just started. Quick, take the cloth and clean thyself, then give me the nightdress and I shall wash the stain from it."

Walking to the dry sink, she poured some water from the pitcher into the basin. Isabella could not make sense of it; she had finished her monthly little more than a week prior, just before embarking on the ship to Virginia. It was nigh on impossible that it would start again so soon. She took the strip of soft flannel that her mother handed to her and dipped it in the cool basin of water. Reaching between her legs to wipe away the blood only to pull it back and see none. She showed it to her mother who looked at her with concern.

"It is not your time of the month, then?"

Isabella shook her head and peered down. There were two small puncture wounds on the inside of her upper thigh. "It seems as though I've been bitten." She murmured.

Her mother knelt and examined the bruised skin and the two small red dots that sat atop the raised lesion. "Perhaps a spider?" she suggested to her daughter.

Isabella nodded. "Twice." But as she moved about the room, putting it to rights and gathering her things she felt a soreness that went deep in her muscle. Living on a farm she had been bitten by insects on countless occasions and recalled that there had never been any blood evidence. They'd almost always felt like surface wounds, this on the other hand, was achy and heavy, bone deep. Isabella wondered if in this warmer, wetter clime the native spiders were more lethal. She vowed to be mindful should she start with a fever.

Thinking of a fever her thoughts strayed to last night's odd dream about Edward Cullen. She had never dreamt of such things before, in truth, she had never even thought such things before. She blushed and wondered from whence those feverish dreams came. They seemed so...vivid. Heart pounding, cheeks red, she shook her head and dismissed her wandering thoughts.

Quickly gathering her travelling clothes, she set aside the light green cotton dress to wear over her lightest linen shift, hoping the outfit would keep her cool for the journey ahead. Disrobing she handed her mother the nightdress and started folding and placing the rest of her possessions in the leather valise. "Mother, how soon before we are to leave?" she inquired, wondering if she'd have time for further ablutions, already feeling hot and sticky from the unaccustomed morning heat.

"Just as soon as father is done with his meeting, I suppose." Her mother replied, dabbing at the stain with the wet washcloth.

"Father has a meeting? With whom?"

"Carlisle and Edward Cullen came by a half an hour ago. They have been locked in the parlor since then."

Her heart thumped at the mention of his name. "What on earth could they be talking about? Father does not deal in trade or commerce."

"I have no idea but the flurry in the house this morning was something to witness." her mother smiled. "The Cullens are both extraordinarily handsome, in manner and looks. They are a quite the pair, don't you think?"

Isabella hummed in agreement as she and her mother continued to pack and set the room to rights. "The household staff, male and female, were aflutter trying to please them. It was quite fascinating to witness. I thought the downstairs maid would faint dead away she was so excited." Renee laughed at the memory.

"Do you think they stopped here to discuss business with the Newtons, and settled with father as a kind of emissary?" Isabella wondered aloud.

"No, I do not think so, for I heard Cousin Eliza offer to dispatch a servant to go fetch her husband from the town and they declined. I am certain it is your father they wish to see. Perhaps they are inquiring about doing some trade up in Pfalzburg, I do not know."

At that moment there came a knock at the door and Mrs. Weber's young daughter peeked her head in. "Beg pardon, madam, but Deacon Swan has asked that ye join him in the parlor as soon as ye can."

"Please bring us a clean basin of water, Annie, Isabella needs to wash up. Inform my husband that I'll be down directly."

Upon her return with the water for Isabella's ablutions, Annie told them that Master Charles had requested Isabella to join them as well. Renee turned and looked at her daughter with raised eyebrows. "Is that so?" Renee murmured softly, thinking to herself as she folded the now clean night gown and tucked it away in her daughter's valise.

Whilst Isabella washed up and quickly dressed, Renee plaited her daughter's long hair and arranged it in a neat bun at her nape.

"Isabella, it seems as though we may have been totally incorrect in assuming this was a business meeting." Her mother whispered, as they headed towards the stairs. "I believe that thou may have captured the interest of one of the Cullen brothers."

Isabella blushed furiously remembering last night's erotic dream. "Mother, I doubt I have captured anyone's interest. I only spoke with them but a few minutes. I am sure there is a more mundane explanation for this."

But mundane explanations were not forthcoming. Mother and daughter entered the sitting room surprised to see Charles Swan smiling ear to ear, a glass of Madeira in his hands. "Good morning, Sirs." Mistress Swan inclined her head to the two guests and walked over to her husband's side. "Charles?" Renee whispered. "You wanted to speak with us?"

Isabella's eyes roamed from her father's face to that of the Cullen Brothers. "Sirs." She curtseyed. "It is a surprise to see you again."

"Is it?" Edward Cullen's eyebrows drew together in a slight frown. "Were you not expecting me to pay a visit so soon?"

"Indeed, Mr. Cullen, I was not expecting you to pay a visit at all." She answered confused, the bite on her thigh starting to throb so painfully that she wanted to rub some salve on it. "To what do we owe this honor?"

Edward did not answer her, but his jaw tightened as though her words moved him to anger. Charles answered for him. "Isabella, Mr. Edward Cullen seems to think that you would be willing to accept his proposal of marriage. They have made a generous offer for thy hand. Needless to say, I was reluctant at first for you've only met him last night, but after a lengthy discussion I have found him to be wise beyond his years and honorably sincere. Mr. Cullen here has assured me that his intentions would be well met by you and that you would be receptive to him calling on us. But now I am flummoxed. Were you unaware of his interest?"

Her heart thumped powerfully as a small part of last night's dream invaded her consciousness. "Father, I have no idea how to answer that." She looked at both Cullens. Edward was not amused, and Carlisle's brows descended in a perplexed frown. His handsome face looked from his brother to Isabella and back again.

He addressed Deacon Swan. "My good sir, I think it might be best if we leave Isabella and Edward alone for a few minutes." Carlisle suggested. "Perhaps there has been some sort of misunderstanding that can be easily sorted out between the two of them."

"Sir, I am not sure that it would be proper." Charles stated. "I will however have no objection if they were to adjourn to the verandah, while we remain here. That will allow them enough privacy while still keeping some propriety."

Edward Cullen did not hesitate and with a slight nod of his head to her parents he walked through the open door to the verandah. Isabella followed reluctantly as he led her as far from the open door as possible. Once they were alone and standing face to face, Isabella had no idea what to say. His jaw was tightly clenched and his expression was dour. They stood there in silence for quite a few moments.

"Sir? I..." She started and then stopped, having no idea what to say.

"Have you changed your mind, then?" He finally inquired harshly. "Do you no longer wish to be mine?"

Astonished at his angry tone, she took a step backwards and her eyes lifted to look into his. "Sir, I cannot recall ever discussing the subject with you." She responded. "We spoke for only a few minutes at the ball, and never once did you indicate that you would be approaching my father."

Suddenly his face relaxed as though he had come to some enlightened understanding; his harsh tones melted to tenderness. He took a step toward her and she took another backward. "Isabella, is it possible that thou hast somehow forgotten last night in the bedroom above?" He asked softly. At his words her cheeks blanched and her knees started to buckle, her hand reached out and she clutched on to the railing behind her. "Do you not recall how I came to you?"

Isabella shook her head.

"Do you have no memory of my kissing you?" He murmured, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Her fingers flew to her lips, touching them, something vague on the periphery of her memory. "No." she denied.

His voice dropped to a seductive whisper as he took a step nearer. "Do you not recall my touching you? Making love to you?"

Her heart sped up until she was deaf to everything but the sound of her blood rushing in her ears. Her other hand came up and clutched at her throat, trying to stem the tide of panic that was threatening to overwhelm her. "M..m..making love? That did not really happen, did it?" she uttered through dry lips.

Edward Cullen's lips spread into a warm smile. "I assure thee it happened, Isabella. I told you I would make you mine forever more and you consented. You let me touch you as only a husband should."

She shook her head disbelievingly. "No. 'Tis not possible, I am sure. 'Twas only a dream."

He took another step closer, her back now flush against the railing. "A dream it was not. We have had an intimate connection, Isabella."

Isabella turned her back to him, away from his scent and looming presence, so she could think. "Last night you came to me?"

"Yes I did." He said into her ear.

She gasped, the reality starting to settle on her. She was now remembering her dreams of the night before. The first where she danced with him. Then the second dream that followed her mother's visit; the way he had come to her room, so swiftly. She recalled the way he had disrobed her, kissed her and touched her, most intimately. "Sir, I implore you, tell me what happened was a dream."

His hands were gentle at her waist, turning her in his arms. He raised his arms to grip the railing, surrounding her, enclosing her in a corner of the verandah, not a bit of sunlight between them. "I assure thee, 'twas no dream. I declared my need of thee; of thy body and soul. I asked and thou told me yes. Thou art mine, Isabella. I cannot let thee go now."

His eyes were so beautiful, his lips so perfect as he uttered his bewitching words. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to draw a breath, the feel of him against her was causing her to sway. Perhaps, she thought, this confusion was the result of not having had a morsel since the previous evening's supper. Then her thigh throbbed and she thought of the bites; maybe it is the onset of a fever that was causing her to feel so unsettled. She ducked under his arm and crossed to the other railing. "Please do not come too near. I beg your pardon but I don't think I am well." She breathed in deeply. "It is unusual for me to feel so dazed; I have never had this feeling of being in a dream yet not. It is quite unsettling. I'm afraid I have no idea where reality ends and my dreams begin; so do forgive me if I am out of sorts."

He sighed and turned away from her to look at the grounds and the river beyond, his eyes resting on the bark of the nearby willow tree that he had stood under just a few hours before. "It is not an illness, that is causing you to feel confused, Isabella. You are feeling the effects of who I am, what I am; my scent, my breath, my being has this effect on humans. It renders them almost defenseless, it is like being drunk on wine. It is my nature, I cannot help it anymore than you can help breathing."

It took her some moments to understand him fully. "Are you implying that you are not human, then?"

He nodded slightly before turning his gaze on her again. "I am an immortal; a god among men, one of the undead." He replied.

For a second she almost thought him mad, but something about his posture made her dismiss that idea as ludicrous. He was obviously sane, if a little intense. She had to allow that he was extremely beautiful and unusually graceful and yes godlike. Perhaps, she thought, a lifetime of being admired and praised for these qualities had fed his conceit beyond all bounds. She thought of the young Master Cullen, being doted on by the adults who cared for him. Perhaps he'd been so loved and showered with affection he had never even had to put his little feet on the ground. Maybe at the age when he was too heavy to be carried some servant had set him down and he had tumbled for his legs were unused to carrying his weight.

She let out a laugh, she couldn't hold it in. "A god among men, Mr. Cullen? Indeed? "

His lips twitched as though he too wanted to join in her humor, but he was intent on convincing her. "Think, Isabella. Think back on last night. Can you explain it otherwise? How did I gain access to your room? How did I know to leave as your mother approached?"

She had no explanation other than she must have been in some stupor brought on by the heat last night. "Sir, I was, am unwell. My thoughts are a jumble. That is all."

He looked at her stoic countenance, her skirt clenched in her tight fists. She was a fragile little thing, but with a will of iron. He could sense that this courtship would take time, more time than they had and he was concerned. "And are you feeling unwell now, Isabella?" he asked. "As you stand over there, apart from me, resisting what I tell you, arguing with me, do you feel as though you're in a dream?"

"No." she shook her head.

"Aside from your dreams last night, do you have concerns in this moment about your ability to reason?"

"I do not have concerns."

"Then allow me try something, hmm?"

"What?"

"Nothing too nefarious, I assure you, and it may help. Will you let me?"

She nodded her agreement. He approached her, and when he came within an arm's length her breathing became rapid. He then came even closer, until he was holding her jaw in his right hand, raising her chin with his thumb. He could not resist stroking her tender skin right there. Those coffee brown eyes, soft as sable, captured his gaze. Bending his head until his mouth was a hair's breadth from hers, until he was so close his lips caressed hers, he spoke. "How do you feel now?"

A tide of emotion welled up in her. She felt giddy, nervous, yet sure. The feel of him in such close proximity assuaged some longing in her but stirred her up for something more. It was strange and good and appalling all at once. "Please." She implored, her hands gripping and bunching the fabric at his strong back, for without her hold on him she may have melted onto the wooden boards. She had never before felt this need; she wanted to be nowhere else than here in his arms. They held fast, each to the other, neither ever wanting to let go.

In that precise moment they were both caught, captives in a maelstrom of the most unfamiliar passion. His nearness held her in thrall, and her scent was pushing him towards a sort of madness. He had a vision of crushing her to him, so that she would be in his very own skin. He had a thought to tear her fair skin with his sharp teeth until he could drink her dry. Oh he wanted her violently, but he wanted to keep her safe forever. The two disparate desires warred in him, making him ache. "Please? Please what? Take you as I desire? Love you as I am aching to?"

"Yes." She whispered, offering herself, spurring his need. Giving him permission to take from her whatever he would.

With supreme will, he reached behind and unhooked her grasp on his waistcoat. Stepping back a few feet he gave her distance and time to regain her composure. Slowly she recovered from the emotional upheaval his mere closeness had brought. As she calmed, Isabella was mortified by his behavior, by hers. What had come over her to beg him so?

He reiterated. "Isabella, you are not ill. All that I have told you is true."

She tried to dismiss it with a shake of her head. "You can hardly expect me to believe that such things exists."

He nodded in understanding. "You are merely resisting acceptance of the unknown out of fear. It is understandable for it is something to be afraid of, make no mistake. Carlisle and I and a handful of others that we are acquainted with, have been turned. You are wise to have fear. We are supremely powerful, and with such power it is quite easy to live a corrupt, sinful life. However, I assure you we do not misuse our powers. We are quite fair in our dealings with mortals."

He seemed to speak with honesty, but still, she was living in the real world, demi-gods, monsters and fairytales did not exist, so she made another attempt to understand his words, to put them in a context that made sense. "Mr. Cullen the tale you spin is quite remarkable, unbelievable even. You surely cannot expect me to accept what you say as fact…"

He shook his head at her statement, his eyes flashing with impatience, as he interrupted her. "But, Isabella, I do expect you to accept. As I said, you know the truth of what I am saying. Deep down, you know. Last night, I was in your room, on your bed. You were giving in to me…"

"I had a dream, you and I, we were in a ballroom, dancing…."

"No, you were in my arms, in your bed. I was about to make you mine when I heard your mother approaching. I had to leave you or risk discovery…"

"She'd had a nightmare..."

"No, Isabella, your mother is intuitive, as are you. She sensed the danger her little swanling was in and she came to check."

Isabella reflected back and murmured. "It was odd. I thought at the time it was remarkable that her dream of the ghostly pirate seemed so similar to my own dreams of you…"

He smiled again, made hopeful by her new clarity. "Yes. This ability we have to enthrall confounds all mortals, it is an added protection…"

Isabella was carefully considering his statements and coming to her own conclusions. "So, Sir. If I accept your assertion that you are an immortal with unusual powers, it is safe to say that your presence affects a human's ability to reason? And..."

"Yes… that power is there to protect us as we settle in on our prey…" He interjected, speaking over her words.

Isabella continued. "This gift affects a person's ability to reason and it allows you to disarm and seduce." She waited for his response, he said nothing. His eyes narrowed but he did not deny her assertion. "So, Mr. Cullen, I am starting to understand. You can seduce us effortlessly, and as mere mortals we have no choice but to comply."

"That is only a little true. At the final moment self preservation always comes in to play..."

She shook her head, dismissing his attempts at swaying her reasoning. "Even if that were so, I am not choosing you, you are choosing me?"

"At the outset, yes. I chose you."

She thought long and hard about what he said. She _had_ felt powerless, vulnerable last night in her bedroom. And that is a perfectly acceptable state to be in when in a dream, but it is not an acceptable state to be when one is awake. She turned decisively. "I am sorry but I cannot accept your proposal. In good conscience I cannot say yes to you Mr. Cullen."

He reached out and held her upper arms in his strong grip. "But you _have_ said yes, many times. You have said yes with your words and with your body. You have afforded me intimacies; which means you have in words and deed already become mine. I have lain with you in your bed. I have suckled at your small breasts, I have smelled and tasted and touched you most intimately …"

She pulled away from his touch. "Please do not continue." She covered her blushing cheeks with her now cold hands. "You yourself admit that I had no choice in the matter. You forced yourself on me."

"I did no such thing. I asked and you agreed. I would not have forced you." He growled.

"But I have only the vaguest memories of this, I was spellbound. It is likely I agreed only due to your power over me."

"That is untrue. I have the ability to affect your memories, your perception of reality, but I do not have the ability of dispelling all your fears, nor do I have the ability to make you look at me with desire and longing. That is within you, and only you."

"I do not know if I believe you, sir."

"I am not a liar." He roared.

Her father came out to the verandah. "Mr. Cullen. I must ask that you not shout at my daughter. If you do so I will be forced to ask you to leave."

"I beg your pardon, sir. I meant no harm." Edward Cullen stated between clenched teeth.

Isabella laid her hand soothingly on her father's arm. "Father, there is no need for you to be alarmed. All is well. Just give us a few more minutes, please. Mr. Cullen and I are only disagreeing on the finer points to come to our understanding." Her father looked at both of them and nodded before reluctantly returning to the parlor from whence he had come. Isabella waited a few moments and then took the opportunity to walk down the steps at the far end of the verandah to continue their discussion under the willow tree, away from her father's hearing.

As he followed, she saw Edward run his hand through his hair, it was the most human action see had ever seen him perform. "Isabella, I am sorry for my loss of temper. Please forgive me, but in my defense I have never encountered a more exasperating human."

"I am sorry too, sir, for what it's worth. I did not mean to call you a liar. But I am trying very hard to understand."

"I shall attempt to explain fully. Promise to listen with an open mind and you will come to understand it all."

"I shall try."

"Think on it, Isabella. Think of last night, at the ball. Did you feel strongly towards my brother?"

"No, I did not."

"More than likely you felt a slight trepidation, a slight fear in his presence. That is your human reaction to the danger he presents. That is all you would have felt towards me if you did not care."

"But, Sir, he did not pursue me, he did not follow me to my room; you did. How am I to know what I would have felt or done had it been him and not you?"

"You would have felt lightheaded and out of sorts. But you would not have allowed him the same intimacies. As with a glass or two of brandy, my presence disarms you, releases your inhibitions; but I would not have the power to make you want me, if you did not feel inclined."

"I am not certain of that." She saw his lips tighten but continued. "Either way, I have no intentions of saying yes to your proposal. At least not now, not until I have time to think on it. I intend to go on with my journey from this place. I will accompany my parents to the Swan farm. Perhaps we can resume our discussion after I've returned in a fortnight."

He turned to her, arms folded across his powerful chest. "I'm afraid that is not possible. I am soon to set sail for my island and you are to accompany me as my wife."

Her mind reeled. "I beg your pardon, sir. But I do not foresee such an event occurring. I do not intend to live in the islands. Not now, not ever."

"Isabella, there is something you must know." He seemed unsure, hesitant even. Isabella almost detected shame in his manner. "I must confess I was impulsive last night. You said you would be mine, and I was so sure of you that I have already made my mark."

"Your mark?" Her brows drew together in puzzlement.

His voice strengthened, he preened with possession and pride. "You are mine, I have my mark on you. I know you can feel it, heavy on your upper thigh. There was blood."

Then she remembered the spot of blood on her gown this morning. Why did she have no memory of how it came to be? Then her heart thumped in her throat, was he saying that he had deflowered her? _Had he?_ "You t..t..took me last night?" she asked dreading his answer.

"Not quite. At least, not how you are thinking. I took a taste of thee only." He licked his tongue over his rosy lips. "And your blood, it was delectable, like the sweetest nectar." He approached again, now only a breath away. "And I intend to have more."

"So, I was bitten? By you?"

"Yes. The ache on your thigh belongs to me. I have taken your vital blood."

"B..b..but why? Why would you do such a thing?"

"I claimed you as mine. You are now linked to me. If I am not able to have you or give you my soothing venom in the next few nights you will become very sick. You will waste away. You need me. We simply cannot be apart."

Full of doubt, she shook her head in refusal. "I'm afraid it is a risk I will have to take. For more than anything, I need time to think on this."

Isabella braced herself, for she saw that he was about to roar again, but instead he surprised her. With great effort he managed to keep his voice down, but his tone was stern and unshakeable. "It is not a risk _I_ am willing to take, for if you die, I will not be able to go on. We are tied, you and I. This is not a mortal marriage. There is no "Till death do us part", for my kind, we do not die easily. I will not be able to go on without you, I will be but a weakened shadow of myself. You are still mortal, which means you are still vulnerable. You have to be turned as soon as possible."

A huff of disbelief erupted from her throat. "Sir, I hardly know you. You are asking me to tie myself to you. On top of that, you tell me it is for all eternity. Can you not comprehend how preposterous this seems?"

Edward stilled and his features were hard. "Preposterous? No, I cannot imagine you would think it such. Frightening? Yes, most assuredly. But I do not think you would find me, this, us, preposterous. This is not a laughing matter."

"Sir, can you not appreciate how difficult this is for me? Twenty four hours ago you were unknown to me. In truth, I can hardly believe I am standing here right now discussing this with you. Please do not press me on this issue. I will make my journey."

He walked away and leaned his forehead on the tree for a moment, seemingly in an attempt to calm. When he returned his voice was laced with barely there patience. "Isabella, I take blame for this. As I said I was impulsive, impetuous. What I felt for you I have not felt in my nearly two hundred years of existence. But as impulsive as I was, the action has been taken and I cannot undo it. I cannot risk losing you. You will marry me and return with me to my island. I cannot change you anywhere else but there."

She in turn walked away to gather her thoughts and returned. "But sir, I cannot agree to this marriage or this change. I have no idea what it entails. I need time. I think that it might be best for you to accompany us on our inland journey. I can become better acquainted with you and you can provide me with some answers."

He closed his eyes and then opened them. He reached down and picked up a rock that was about the size of her head. "Here, hold this. What do you feel?"

"It is a rock."

"Is it very heavy?"

"Yes."

"Is it fragile like talc or dried animal bones?"

"No, it is limestone. It has traces of rust here." She touched an orange colored vein which ran through the rock. "This signifies it has high metal content, possibly iron ore."

"That is quite observant." He praised her. "You are a constant source of wonder and surprise."

"My father has taught me well." she answered without conceit. "I'm sure it is the same rock used in building this house." She pointed to the solid supports beneath the verandah.

"Isabella, this type of rock is used extensively for building castles in Europe. Do you know why?"

"Of course I do. It will last centuries. It will withstand attacks, both from nature and man. It is a very hard stone." As she spoke he took the rock from her hand and crushed it between his fingers as though it were day old stale bread. In seconds the crumbs lay at their feet.

"You are strong." She stated, shocked. Underneath it all she had been hoping for some logical explanation. Now she was starting to accept. Edward Cullen was indeed something more than a mere man. His beauty, his grace, his strength were all beyond normal.

"Indeed I am. And you will be too." He said as he looked in her eyes. "You will be greater than you are. Faster, stronger, and as beautiful as you are now, you will be even more so."

"I will?"

"Yes, when you are turned. And because of that strength you will be dangerous."

Isabella said nothing in response, instead she waited for him to continue, for he had a point to make, she was sure.

"Isabella, I fear you are not understanding the difficulty you are placing us both in. The wound I gave you, my wound, throbs. It is because your body now wants more of mine. If I give you more while we are here or in travel, you will undergo this change in full view of your family. Not only is it a terrible thing for them to witness, it puts them in harm's way. This change will make you inhumanly strong but monstrously volatile. It is likely you will bring harm to them.

Now, if you follow through with your intentions of leaving me, you will be placing yourself in grave danger. If you take your leave and refuse more of my venom, you will start to perish. It will happen slowly at first. In a few days you will start to weaken. You will lay abed, unable to rise. They will try to cure you, but you will not respond to any treatment. Leeches will fall off you and die. In a week you will not be able to eat or drink. Instead you will cry out for me and my blood. Your bones will start showing, you will waste away. In two weeks, everyone will abandon you for fear of their own lives. You will be alone. You. Will. Die. Is seeing your family farm worth it?"

Isabella's eyes widened at his words. They rang with honesty. She was now certain of one thing, he was telling the truth. She paced up and down, the pictures in her mind haunting her. Finally she turned and faced him. "But what am I to do?" She implored desperately. "I am afraid of tying myself to you, the immortal unknown that you have described."

"I know that you are afraid. You are in a unique position. I know of no one who has gone into this willingly. Neither Carlisle nor I chose this. We were brothers by birth and brothers in arms. He was a great soldier, the greatest I've ever seen. He fought for our Virgin Queen, always triumphant always bringing great glory to the English crown. I had no stomach for warfare and for a time I turned from soldiering to become an explorer. The year was 1585. At the tender age of seventeen I traveled with Sir Francis Drake to take part in his great campaign against Spain in the Caribbean. I fell in love with those islands, it seemed like paradise on earth.

When I returned to Europe, I sought out my older brother and found him on the battlefield in Holland; it was there where he almost met his end. He was felled by a small wound to his neck. At first he thought nothing of it, it ached a little, but he could not even remember how he received it. It soon festered and he lingered with a fever for almost a week. I had long before made a promise to him that if he ever fell on the battlefield I would deliver the final blow so he would not suffer. I was beside myself with guilt and grief for I could not bring myself to raise my weapon and end his life.

Instead I did the only thing I thought I could to save his immortal soul. I carried him in my arms into the city and searched out a priest for his final sacrament. I eventually made my way to De Oude Kerk and the old priest did not speak a word of English, but knew what I was after. After the holy unction I carried Carlisle to the nearest alley. I sat with my back to the wall, my brother lying across my lap as he lay dying from his wound. I wept bitterly, for he was all I had left in the world. He had been like a father to me, raising me after our parents had gone to heaven when I was but nine and he was but fourteen.

In the dank debris I fell asleep with him in my arms, certain I would wake the next day only to have to endure the agony of burying my brother, my only living relative. The next morning when I awoke he was gone. I could not comprehend who would take him. For who would steal a dead body? I searched for him for many days, hoping to recover the corpse, but I never did. Grieving this great loss, I had no choice but to return to battle. A few months later I found myself also mortally wounded on the battlefield, praying for a quick end to my suffering. In answer to my fervent prayers my guardian angel appeared in front of me.

My own brother put me out of my misery by turning me, and he watched me through the days and weeks of suffering that followed. He is a much better soul than I, for he had weathered that storm alone. As he later told me, he had awakened in that alley with a severe thirst for my blood. He took himself away from all temptation and not once indulged in human blood. He lived out of the cities where he assuaged his craving with elk and wild boars. It seems that while turning he had an epiphany, having taken so many lives while human, he was determined to turn away from violence as an immortal.

For myself, I had no such epiphany. My longing for human blood is strong, I resist, mostly to please him, but I give in when I come upon someone who does not deserve to live. I am a self-appointed, avenging angel and it is sometimes my mission to right wrongs. I am not a demon, but I am not a saint either.

Neither of us chose this path; Carlisle was changed without having a say, I was near death. On the other hand you were in good health when I took thee. I would say that I am sorry, but I am not. For I believe you are meant for me."

"Your story is extraordinary, if what you say is true." She saw his lips tighten in anger, and she hurried to explain. "Please, you must allow that it will take time to believe and accept what you are telling me. If all what you say is true, I have one question. What on earth could you possibly want with someone as simple as I am? I do not have breeding, nor wealth. I am a simple country girl, no more, no less. I have no idea why you have pursued me."

"For almost two hundred years I have walked this earth, wondering if there is a reason for my existence. Many, many times I have doubted that there could ever be such a thing as love and happiness for me. But when I saw you last night, I started to believe.

I caught sight of you and smelled your sweetness from across the room. To my mind you are unbelievably perfect, in body and soul. Then and there I felt such a wondrous connection, and such a rightness when I stood next to you on that verandah. And you were so humble, so modest yet so self assured.

It is a testament to your parents that you have such beauty and intelligence, but you alone are to be credited for being the most extraordinary creature that I see before me. You have no vanity about thyself. You have no greed and no ill humor in thy heart. In our whole conversation this past hour, I've seen you struggling to understand me, to make sense of the extraordinary, when quite frankly you should be afraid. I imagine most mortals would run and cower. Isabella, you are brave in the most important of ways, you are kind and thoughtful, to those who deserve it, and even to those who don't. You are so appealing to me, your mind, your soul and your body. Your scent, your blood calls to me in a way I have no experience of. It is heady, and intoxicating and it feeds my desire to take you in so many, many ways."

He smiled as he heard her gasp, and his appetite stirred as he saw her cheeks redden with the liquid he longed to taste again.

"Nevertheless, at the end of the ball last night, I intended to walk away and never see you again. I told myself that you would be but a vague memory in a decade or two. My imagination saw you happily married to someone else and the vision began to plague my mind. The idea of you being tied to some old crust or someone of Newton's ilk, strikes me as abhorrent. Indeed the thought of you being tied to anyone else but me made me tremble with madness.

I tried, I tried, to resist the call of thy soul. I tried not to follow you home last night, but the tug of desire pulled me here, where I soon had no choice but to make you mine. It was presumptuous to touch thee so intimately, and to take that first taste of thy wine. For that I have no excuse, other than that the need in me was so great that I threw caution away, and plunged headlong into this. Alas, we find ourselves in this bind. A bind I am eager to solidify, but one that you dread." He looked so appealing to her then, almost boyish, his hair was scattered and his eyes almost wild. She sensed a building frustration and she longed to appease it.

"Sir, I confess…" She started to divulge her innermost feelings to him.

He reached out as though he could not help himself, and touched his index to her lips; his golden eyes watching her mouth. "Edward, say Edward. I want my name on those pink lips."

Her blush rose up and his mouth drew up in a smile, enchanted by her beauty all over again. "Edward, I confess that you speak with a passion that stirs something in me…" she admitted slowly.

His golden eyes stared into hers. "That is good. You are beginning to understand and feel what I feel, though I doubt that it comes close."

"...but I need something. If you, for safety's sake, cannot grant me much time to accept this situation, then at least arm me with more knowledge. There must be some middle ground, something you can give me to make sense of all of this. Is there no solution, but to marry you in haste and leave for your island immediately?"

"We have but a few days. I can continue to taste thy blood and give thee minute amounts of my venom, as we make preparations to marry. But we must marry in a few days and set sail for soon the time will come when the craving for me, will not be satisfied by just a little. As I said you will start to dwindle. I have only the barest knowledge of this, for I have never turned anyone. I have only heard of instances when a turning has been incomplete and the human has died. It takes but a week or two."

"And the "turning"? What of that? What will happen to me?" she stuttered out.

"It will be as I described Carlisle. You will burn with a raging fever. You will sink into delirium and beg to die. Then you will be as though asleep, every so often letting out a wail, because you will be suffering in excruciating pain. Eventually your heart will stop; you will be on the brink of heaven's door. Though you will not take that final step, instead you will stay here with me. Your body will mend, becoming immortal. It will become stronger than an army of a thousand men; honed as a fine blade. When you awaken your thirst for blood will be so powerful you will be out of your mind with want. If there is a human around you will murder to satisfy that craving, which is why we will be on my island. I will hunt and bring blood back for you. I will nurture you with blood, as a mother nurtures their babe. You will suckle from me until the worst is over."

Isabella clasped one hand to her middle and the other to her throat, almost feeling the overwhelming thirst that he spoke of. "When will that be? How long before I am over the worst?"

"It is uncertain. For Carlisle, it took a few months. For me, I was a bloodthirsty knave. It was more than a year before I could control my thirst."

"If I do this…"

"There is not an 'if', but rather a 'when'."

"When will I be able to return to Pfalzburg and see my parents? It is of the utmost importance. My mother, she is unwell. I would have liked to nurse her…"

"I know of your mother's delicate condition. She is with child, I can hear the little one's heartbeat already. Your mother suffers from poor blood. She needs more than good food and rest. There are many women in the islands who practice midwifery, they use unusual herbs. We can purchase some in Louisiana Territory. If she were to rest and take the potions she will have strong, rich blood and she will deliver a healthy baby."

"But that is why I want to be with her, I can nurse her and make sure she rests. Without my help I fear she will not make it."

"Isabella, I have the wherewithal to hire a girl and to send her home with your mother. I intend to provide your parents with a fortune for having had to relinquish their one and only treasure to my care; your family will be well taken care of, you can rest assured. I am of the mind that it may be wise for your parents to stay here until after your mother gives birth, she may be able to stay at the Swan farm or we may take a residence for them here in Williamsburg. The rest would do her good, I could hire a household staff. I can provide a midwife who knows the native herbs and tinctures.."

"I doubt if my father would agree to you paying for such lavishness."

"Would he not agree for the sake of your mother's health?"

"Perhaps, I won't know until we speak to him on it."

He smiled. "So, you are accepting my proposal? You are settled on this?" Isabella thought that smile could make the angels weep with joy.

She responded determinedly. "I am accepting your proposal, Sir."

"Edward, please." He whispered as he reached for her hands, raising them to his face and placing a kiss just there.

Her hands tightened around his until he looked into her face and saw the conviction therein. "I am accepting your proposal, Edward. Though I must tell you I still have much trepidation."

"Put thy trust in me, dear Isabella. I promise thee that I will do my best to see thee safely through it."

"I shall trust in thee for it seems it is my fate."

"Our fate, my dear. Ours forever intertwined."


	3. Chapter 3

Three Little Words

The brigantine's name, _Cullen's Fancy_, was written in an elegant script across the bow of the vessel. It was nearing eight o'clock and the sun was making its daily descent towards the western horizon casting an orange glow on the faces of the newly wedded couple. Edward was standing next to Isabella, enjoying the experience through her eyes as she looked around the deck of his ship, taking in the tumult of a ship about to set sail.

The ship's hands were busy getting ready to sail, some men bringing cargo up the gangplank and some men climbing up and untying the ropes to unfurl the sails. She was surprised at how well kept the deck was, not a bit of clutter, a place for everything and everything in its place. Soon she heard the snap of the sails fluttering in the light breeze and her eyes went up and her face lit with puzzlement.

"Red sails?" she asked wonderingly. "I've always believed that sails had to be white."

"There are no rules." He responded. "Most ships do use white sails but not all. I've seen tubs whose sails are a mish mash of motleyed colors. Pirates often use black sails, some with the skull and crossbones emblem. Some are black, with a scabbard, it varies. Their sails are a signal used to engender fear, merchant and passenger ships often surrender without a fight. That's why they use those colors. It's there to intimidate the oncoming ships."

"Is that why yours are red, Edward, to intimidate others?" She queried, only now realizing that they may encounter danger on the seas.

He shook his head and smiled at her, "We have no need to intimidate. It is there as a caution only. All pirate ships and privateers know not to engage with the blood red sails. There is a message in it for them. 'Come forward at your own risk'. The blood red sails are known as ours and we do not take kindly to attacks."

She nodded and made an "O" with her lips and he smiled at her expression. Everything about her made him smile. His eyes took in her smooth skin under the wide brimmed straw hat she wore, the green sash tied under her neck barely keeping it on in the evening breeze. A sudden gust and her little hand reached up to the crown to hold it on her head for fear it would fly away. On her other arm she held a small basket, in it she carried the things she held most dear to her heart; her father's gift to her which was a newly acquired volume with the collected works of Shakespeare, Ovid's Metamorphoses, her own book of psalms and her personal journal. Buried beneath those tomes, were her silver comb and brush set, and Renee's gift to her, two small silver frames with the likenesses of her mother and grandmother. It was Renee's only keepsake from her life before Charles. It brought back memories of her dear mother and she lovingly passed it to her only daughter, perhaps hoping that Isabella would pass it on to hers. Edward looked at the slip of a girl standing on the rolling deck in front of him. To all who saw her she appeared to be a young and fetching bride with not a care in the world, eager to start her new life and a new family. But he saw a woman for the ages, one who had bravely consented to become his and he had to marvel again at his fortune. She smiled up at him as though reading his thoughts and he down at her, for they had both been prone to smiling since their wedding a few hours ago.

He took her elbow in his cool grasp and led her around the vessel. Men continued to move quickly about, some intent on readying the ship for its imminent voyage others intent on loading the ship. Men were scurrying both above board and below deck, stacking and tying down loads containing items that the Cullen brothers had purchased and were taking back to their islands. Edward explained that he and his brother purchased items such as fabric, ink, paper, and candle wax, things that were hard to come by in the islands. Isabella's eyes scanned the loads being carried up the gangplank and onto the ship, looking for two items in particular, her eyes searching for her portmanteau and small leather valise. Edward took her hands in his as he led her about, describing the rigging and the sails. She paid scant attention for she was mostly concerned for her things, she did not want them lost.

Before long they stopped by the helm of the ship where Edward introduced her to the bearded one-eyed captain. "Isabella this is Josiah McCarty, he is the captain of the _Fancy _and a good man. Josiah this is my wife, Isabella Cullen.

Grizzled Captain McCarty doffed his tri-corner over his heart as he inclined his head. "It's a pleasure madam. I can only wish ye blessings and godspeed. I know you are in good hands. I have known Mr. Cullen and his brother for many a year, since I was a wee lad. They saved my life when the schooner from Glasgow that I was apprenticing on went down in a blaze after being attacked by some scalawags. He is a good, good, man; but I suspect ye knew that when ye said "yes". Must say, I never thought he'd take him a wife, but Mrs. Cullen looking at ye I can see why." Josiah laughed heartily until he caught sight of her blush. "No offense madam, but ye are indeed very pretty."

"Josiah, I always thought you an honest man, but I see now that you are a liar. Mrs. Cullen is no mere pretty face, she is the most beautiful girl you've ever laid eyes on and you know it."

"Aye indeed, she is most beautiful. And ye have found happiness, I can see it in your face. And I'm glad for you, sir. You have been blessed indeed."

Edward's glance did not leave Isabella's face as he drew her fingers to his lips. "That I have, Josiah."

They left Captain McCarty's side and she followed her husband as he proceeded to the stern of the brigantine where there was a door to below decks. There they stopped so Edward could speak with Carlisle, who had changed from his formal attire into dark leather breeches, knee boots and a white linen shirt, the ties of which were hanging open exposing some of his chest. Isabella hastily looked away from his state of undress, unprepared for the informality of men who were used to travelling the seas without women around.

She again looked around the deck, searching in vain for her portmanteau and leather valise which contained her trousseau. Having come to Virginia with no intention of getting married she had brought only a few items of clothing. Unprepared as she was for marriage and a journey to much warmer climes, Edward had insisted on purchasing a leather portmanteau and additional items of clothing including some made from finest oriental silk and French lace. Although she was not by nature a vain person, she was looking forward to feeling the under garments next to her body. She was looking forward to wearing them for her new husband. Three days before she would have felt much shame at having such decadent thoughts; but alas the creature she was three days ago was but a child compared to the woman who stood next to her husband.

~BTWDS~

One night and two days had gone by since Edward's proposal in the Newton's garden and in that short time she had become intimately acquainted with a side of herself she had not thought existed. After she accepted his proposal that morning, she and Edward returned to the parlor hand in hand to give her parents the happy news. After kisses and hugs from her mother Edward announced that they would marry the following day. Renee gasped and tears came to her eyes as she hugged her daughter tightly, murmuring that she would be dearly missed. Charles shook his head in protest and said that he thought it best that they take a few more days to become better acquainted. Edward brooked no argument and insisted to her father that they must be married as soon as possible. Within an hour the couple along with Carlisle had taken the carriage into town and procured a marriage license from the Justice of the Peace, forsaking the traditional announcement of the wedding banns.

Leaving the home of the Justice of the Peace, Carlisle bid them good-bye and left to conduct business. Edward and Isabella returned to the Newtons' home where they then spoke to cousin Eliza, requesting that she give her acquiescence to having the ceremony and repast in her home. Cousin Eliza could not say no to the force of nature that was Edward Cullen and she and Renee immediately started to plan the menu for the following afternoon. Her father, being a deacon, was none too happy with the speed at which Edward wanted to marry. "Marry in haste, repent at leisure." He cautioned them both. In truth Charles Swan was blindsided by the sudden turn of events. Although when he had left New York it was with every intention of finding a husband for his daughter, he had not foreseen that he would have to say good-bye to her so soon. In some far corner of his mind he had envisioned a long engagement. His unhappiness was palpable, and before long Renee called him to the side with a gentle reminder of the future that lay ahead in Pfalzburg for Isabella should she not marry. Nevertheless Deacon Swan still attempted to convince Edward to set the marriage ceremony for a week ahead, hoping to enjoy at least a few more days with his beloved daughter, but Edward was adamant that they must be married the very next day for he had important business to return to in the islands.

That evening, after a day of preparation which had turned the household on its ear, Edward bid her parents goodnight. He led her out onto the verandah to say his farewell; taking her in his arms holding her fast, bending his head to kiss the rapidly beating pulse point at her neck. His scent was like an elixir to her heightened senses and again she became a slave to her desire and he to his. "Leaving here tonight is torture." He whispered in her ear. "Without a doubt 'tis the hardest thing I've ever had to do." And with that he put his mouth to hers and teased her lips apart. She opened willingly, yearning for a taste of his breath, and the touch of his tongue against hers. As he gave her the caress of his mouth her heart pounded so forcefully in her breast that he could almost feel it in his own chest. The powerful beat of her blood coursing through her body was like a song to him. His need for her grew and without thought to what he was doing, he undid the four small buttons at the top of her green dress and pulled the loosened fabric of her shift below her breasts. His lips found the source of her song, beating beneath the translucent skin and delicate bones of her ribcage. He murmured against her swiftly beating heart. "You are tantalizing and unbelievably fragile. I could so easily crush you, 'tis a miracle that you are still alive, little bird.' And with that his lips skated between her breasts and up over one firm mound until he captured her pink nipple between his teeth and gently nipped.

In that shadowy corner of the verandah under the overhanging honeysuckle, Isabella was captivated by the feel of his tongue and teeth on her. She was emboldened by his touch and could not be still, her body writhed against his, seeking a closeness that was not yet possible. His arms propelled her against the stone wall so that he could press his entire body against hers. Her fingers sought to touch every available part of his body, her hands ran along the strong arms that held her and up over his broad shoulders, until they delved into his hair. She reached up and undid the black ribbon that held it in place. "Your touch thrills me, Isabella. I cannot wait to lie with thee."

"I cannot wait either, you have awakened a desire in me so strong that I fear I will combust." She murmured as her lips peppered kisses along his jaw.

Her smell enveloped him and he just barely resisted the temptation to devour her. He pulled back from her and whispered. "I had hoped to wait for tomorrow, but I cannot. I shall come again tonight through your window." He promised. "And I will take the wine from thee again and thou shall taste me." He bent again and licked at her neck, his hands squeezing her hips and moving them against his own. "I want to take thy body in every way possible, Isabella. I hunger for thee."

He kissed her lips until they ached with the pressure then he raised his head taking in her dishevelment with a satisfied look. After retrieving his satin ribbon and tying his hair back he took his leave. She watched him go, admiring the look of his broad back as he disappeared into the dark night. Isabella longed for his quick return as she watched him walk to the front of the house to his carriage. She stood there a while, pleased with the thought that Edward wanted her so much, comforted in the knowledge that they would be together soon.

Isabella returned to the parlor after straightening her dress and fixing her bun; she looked like herself, though there was no hiding the flush in her cheeks and the tell-tale smile around her lips. Her eyes were still bright with the passion that she and Edward had just shared. Renee looked on her daughter and sighed. It was obvious to Renee that Isabella was smitten, and she resolved to have the most delicate conversation with her daughter. She did not wish for her daughter to experience a disastrous wedding night like the one that she and Charles had. Her intention was to speak to Isabella candidly about the nature of men and women and the pleasure that can be found in the marital bed.

It was clear to her that the handsome Mr. Edward Cullen had indulged himself with women before, he was certainly more experienced than her dear Charles had been on their wedding night, but she was not sure if that meant that Isabella would have an easier time of it. Edward Cullen may have had mistresses but that had no bearing on his ability to introduce her innocent daughter to a happy marriage by making the wedding night pleasurable. Renee intended to give her daughter the knowledge that would ease her entry into married life.

For his part Charles gave no thought to his daughter's wedding night; if the tiniest thought of it sailed near the periphery of his mind he dismissed it immediately, trying his best NOT to imagine his innocent little girl in the arms of a man. Although the betrothal to Edward Cullen far surpassed any match that Charles had hoped to achieve for her, he still had a father's tendency to think of his daughter as a child, a babe, whom no man could ever be worthy of. As Isabella poured her tea, and sat on the settee across from him, he once more sought a way to keep her a little longer. "Isabella, I hope you realize that if you do not wish it, you do not have to marry tomorrow. I am sure that if we put our foot down and set the date for a few days hence, Cullen will still come round and set sail for his island later in the week. What's more if he were a true gentleman…"

Isabella interrupted her father softly but insistently. "Edward is a true gentleman father, and I will fulfill my promise to marry him tomorrow. We discussed it this morning in the garden; and he assured me that if he could give me time he would. Unfortunately he and his brother have business to attend to, and many merchants and their families rely on the Cullens. I would not wish to interfere with so many people's livelihoods, it would not be the right thing to do. The only hesitation I had was in leaving you and mother at this time, for I know she needs someone to care after her. But since you have agreed to remain in Williamsburg until after the birth I am more at peace. I think sending for cousin Mary Alice was a wonderful idea, for she can help mother as I would have done were I not getting married. I regret not meeting your brother Phillip and his wife before I leave, but I hope to see them on my return. Please do not worry father, for I am willing and eager to marry Edward tomorrow."

Her father reached out and took her hands in his, searching her face for any hint of reluctance. "You are settled on it daughter? I hope you did not agree for our sakes only."

She in turn squeezed his hand reassuringly. Her brown eyes smiled into his, and she thought only of convincing him that her decision had been made with good judgment. "Father, I would not have. He is kind and good, and I know we can make a good marriage, such as the one you and mother have. For he has all the hallmarks of a person I could care for and love to the end of my days. Is that not what you would wish for me?"

Renee's eyes twinkled, sensing that her daughter was already more than a little bit in love with her betrothed. "Isabella, I am convinced that you are doing the right thing, and your father will come to realize it too. It is harder for a father to let go of a daughter, than it would be to let go of a son; it is just the way of the world. Do not let it bother thee."

Charles sighed and leaned back into his chair. "Your mother's words are wise, it is hard for me to let you go. I think if you were a boy it would be so much easier; for I have travelled the road that a man travels and I know its challenges and its pitfalls. I have no knowledge of your path and I am only concerned that the man you marry treats you as the treasure you are."

"I think Edward will do that father. He and his brother are both fine men. Business people have nothing but good things to say about them."

"But we do not know from whence they came. We know nothing of the man I am entrusting your care to."

"Father such is the times in which we live. Had we lived centuries ago I would have not travelled all this way and I would probably not have made such a hasty match. And had I remained in Pfalzburg you would have known the family history of the man I was to marry, for good or ill. But you must remember that mother married you knowing very little about your family history, and it worked out well."

"That is true dear Charles. We have done our best and Edward seems decent. At this point we must trust in our judgment and in the Almighty." Renee rose with a yawn and kissed her husband's cheek and then her daughter's. "I am tired and must ready for bed. I would like to have a talk with thee tonight, Isabella. It will likely be the last time I get to put my daughter to bed and tuck her in. Please indulge a mother's heavy heart?"

Isabella nodded a lump forming in her throat, knowing full well that these would be her last few hours with her mother and father. "I look forward to it mother." Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

Renee patted her daughter's cheek affectionately. "I will come to your bedroom in a few minutes then."

Isabella and her father lingered a few minutes to finish their tea. It was obvious to her that her father was mourning the loss of her companionship, for she had been the only other person in his life who understood his intellectual pursuits and his excitement of new discoveries. For years she and he had sat in the modest parlor at home in Pfalzburg, discussing Shakespeare and Pepys and even the classics of Ovid and Homer. They were the only two who would venture into the woods outside the towne to study the hunting and societal habits of the Lenape tribe whom they had befriended. Her father even kept a diary which contained all the knowledge he had gleaned from his native friends. The diary also included everything he knew of their spiritual observances and their creation myths. He felt it was as valuable as those of the ancient Greeks or Romans. Charles Swan's varied interests and his unquenchable thirst for knowledge were matched only by his daughter's desire to know all about her world.

Telling him that she would also miss him and that she was grateful for all he had taught her, she kissed him on the cheek and went upstairs to her bedroom. She peeked out her window before taking off the green dress and the linen shift that she had dressed to travel in earlier that morning. She reflected on all that had come to pass since she had put on those clothes at the beginning of the day; it seemed to her that a lifetime had gone by. For certain, her world and her understanding of it had changed considerably since that morning. The basin of water was tepid and she wiped the wet cloth over the skin of her face and then her arms and chest. She dipped the cloth again and squeezed the water from it and wiped her legs. She could not help but ask herself if all that had occurred that day was true or a mere figment of her imagination. It was beyond unfathomable. Edward's desire to wed her had come as such a shock. In truth, even had he been an ordinary man of wealth she would wonder why he chose her; but the knowledge that he was no mere mortal had her reeling.

In the early evening light she waited for her mother to come to her; Isabella was sitting at the edge of her bed in her nightdress. The quietude magnified her awareness of the pain in her throbbing thigh; it was at its height. She felt the pulse pounding there as though it were a second heartbeat, eclipsing the first. As with a toothache or a headache, all else paled in comparison. Her entire body seemed centered on that ache, she could think of little else but that Edward would return and touch her there. The tender skin on her thigh was hot and achy but it was also a strangely pleasurable pain. She remembered his words, how he had stated that the ache was his. She knew now that he owned that pain, just as he owned the fullness of her bruised lips, and the swollen feeling in her breasts.

Getting up she walked to the window again and her eyes searched the semi-dark for his form under the willow tree, he was not there and she reached for the silvered hairbrush and pulled it along her scalp in soothing strokes. The repetitive action allowed her thoughts to drift and settle on the future that she would share with the most extraordinary person she had ever met. Life everlasting was a prospect that was too much for her to digest, and to her mind the only way of coping was to take the future one day at a time. She vowed to herself that from now on she would think of the future in hours and days, rather than in months and years. The imminent arrival of her intended was foremost in her mind and she had a yearning to feel him once again in her arms. In his arms is where she was happiest, the ceremony tomorrow was only a formality, meant to appease her mother and father; he had stated that she was already bound to him and she knew she was. The ache in her thighs, the residual tenderness on her lips told her so.

Renee found her thusly, deep in thought and with a contemplative expression on her face. Naturally she assumed that Isabella was worried over the wedding night so she immediately attempted to banish her fears. Renee took the brush from her daughter's fingers and started brushing the waist long hair.

Soft as secrets the words spilled between them. "I was just your age when I wed your father, you know. Since the moment Widow Cope mentioned that he had expressed an interest in me, I wanted to be married to him. He seemed so kind and earnest when we talked together and there and then I could not imagine a better husband for me."

"What made him approach Widow Cope for your hand?"

"My father had just been buried. The entire town knew I was now a penniless orphan. Samuel was the sole inheritor of everything my family had owned. Hannah was taking off, leaving nothing behind for me; she even sold the house my grandfather had built to Peter Forsythe. Had I not made a match, she likely would have taken me with her to Massachusetts. Who knows what future awaited me there? I was certainly not loved or well cared for in my own home, so it was certain I would be misused by her once I left town. Widow Cope took pity on me and made Hannah an offer. For a small sum, Widow Cope would arrange a match for me and take me into her home until I was married. Truthfully, I don't think Hannah cared much what happened to me, but the sum that Widow Cope asked was small and the other option of taking me with her to Massachusetts was more burdensome."

"So Father approached Widow Cope?"

"No. Widow Cope approached your father and told him of her agreement with Hannah, and asked if he was ready to take a wife. He was taken by surprise, he had not been thinking of marriage. She told him of my circumstances and made sure he knew that he was the first person she had approached. She hinted that he would be wise to express an interest because she had heard that others may be eager. Your father immediately asked her to arrange it. After our wedding he confessed that he had seen me in church but had never thought a match between us was possible."

"So he had liked you already?"

"Yes, so he said."

"Yet, he had never spoken to you. He had no idea what type of person you were, whether you were somber or frivolous. Did you ever ask him why he liked you?"

"There wasn't any need. I'm sure I caught your father's eye because he thought I was pretty. Isabella, when it comes to women, I think men are fairly simple creatures; even your father. They like the way a girl looks and that is enough for them. It is even better if she is sweet and caring and easy to talk to, but I think ultimately they like to look at a pretty face across the table. We women are different. I do think we like a nice face, but we put more import on a husband's demeanor and gentleness."

"And you saw that in Father?"

"Yes. I saw it in his eyes the first time we spoke. You have his eyes, gentle and intelligent."

Renee finished the brushing and moved to sit next to her daughter as she begun to plait her hair. "I was not as smart as you my dear girl. When I was your age I was little more than an ignorant child; so much was unknown to me. When my mother was alive I was raised in a home where I was expected to be quiet and not ask questions. I never wondered where my food came from or how others lived. I never once thought to ask. After my mother went from this life to heaven and my stepmother came into the home, I was no longer treated as I had been, I was required to work in the kitchen and it was then that I saw where my food came from. Truthfully it was a valuable lesson. At Hannah's bidding I was required to do a good day's work around the house. Although I worked alongside them, the servants could not treat me as one of their own because they had been so used to treating me as the little mistress of the manor. Whenever I came into the room the laughter would cease and they quieted, always aware of my status and remembering that regardless of what Hannah wanted, it was still my father who paid their wages. As a result I had never made a friend or been close with another girl and because of that, the little things one learns about the ways of the world was never hinted at, let alone disclosed to me." Renee turned her daughter's face to hers. "Do you understand? Can you glean what I am trying to impart to you?"

"No mother." Isabella shook her head in confusion. She was sure that her mother was trying to give her some advice but she was not sure what that advice was.

Renee gave a little chuckle and tugged on her daughter's long plait. "I'm afraid that I am being too delicate and I am not being as clear as I wish to be. Isabella, when I married your father I was sixteen, just as you are now. But you are so much more intelligent and aware than I was at that age. Truth be told, I was unaware of what it meant to be married. To my mind marriage meant that I would be a close friend to my husband, and that I would make his meals and I would take care of his home. I knew of no other obligation. I had not kissed Charles nor even held his hand until after we were wed. Understand?"

Isabella nodded. Keen to let her mother finish her talk so that Edward would come.

"I know that you have feelings for Edward. You care for him, is that not so?"

"Yes, I do." Isabella nodded looking at the bedspread for she could not look her mother in the eyes.

"And I believe that you have held hands, is that so?"

"Yes."

"And has he kissed you?"

Isabella blushed furiously, but nodded. "He has."

Renee chuckled and picked up her daughter's hands and held them gently between her own. "That is a good thing, Isabella. Do not be ashamed. It is natural to want to kiss and touch your wife or your husband. Do you know what else is natural?"

"What?" she whispered with dread, only now understanding that her mother would talk to her of private things.

"It is natural to be intimate with his body."

Isabella stood up from the bed, covering her burning face with her hands. "Oh, my goodness, mother, please let's not speak on this."

"I do not mean to make thee ashamed, but I feel it is my duty to make sure you know what being in the marriage bed entails."

"I do know, mother." She turned to her mother who beckoned her nearer, only to reach for her hands again.

"Are you sure?" Renee inquired her eyes on her daughters flushed face. "Your husband will want to touch your body. He may even desire that you disrobe entirely. He may want to look at your naked body and kiss and touch you all over. It is nothing for you to be ashamed of, it is what marriage is. You are an undiscovered land that he must explore, and he may desire that you explore him."

"Please, mother. Do not go on."

"He is like the hand and you are like the glove, he fits inside of you. You will come together like two halves of a whole. There may be a little pain the first time, but then again there may be no pain at all. It is a seal that must be broken and then after that comes the best part. I need you to know that it can be pleasurable, but it will not be if you fear or dread it."

"I promise that I do not dread it." Isabella squirmed under her mother's gaze.

"I am glad to hear it. Do not fret, I have no more to say. It is a lot to think on and I will leave you alone now. If you wish to talk about it again tomorrow, if you have any questions all you need do is ask."

Her mother kissed her on her forehead and quietly pulled the door closed as she left. Isabella blew out a deep breath and followed to lock the door, when she turned Edward was standing right there by the window smiling at her. "So you do not dread being my glove? That is good to know." He smiled.

"How long were you listening? Did you hear it all?" she whispered, shuddering with embarrassment all over again.

He was next to her in a flash, pulling her into his arms and running a soothing hand over her hair. "I heard enough to know that thy mother loves thee greatly, and that she wants nothing more than happiness for thee. But be assured there is nothing to worry over. I promise giving yourself to me will be more than pleasurable." And with that he pulled her braided hair back and kissed her passionately on the lips, his tongue reaching in to suckle at her mouth. "Are you aware how much I want you?" he moaned.

"Yes, I think so."

He kissed her again, this time running his lips over her jaw on down her neck, pulling at the bow that kept the neck of her nightgown together. As it fell open, he pushed the gown off her shoulders. In a sudden fit of shyness she reached up and tried to hold onto her nightgown, but he kissed her mouth again, making her loosen her hold and it pooled to the ground leaving her bare before him. He pulled away to run his eyes over her body. "Such a beautiful girl." His kissed her deeply and he tightened his fingers on her bottom, bringing her as close to him as possible. He slowly walked her backwards leading her to the bed; she was caught by surprise and let out a little gasp as she started falling backwards into its soft sheets. They lay side by side and he kissed her lips until they throbbed; his hand meantime caressed a path over her belly and along her hip bones. Then those long fingers moved between her thighs reaching down to stroke the bites he had made. His cool thumb rubbed it over and over soothingly but they could both feel the pulsing beneath her skin. His lips left hers, "I want to kiss you down there. Will you let me?" She closed her eyes and nodded quickly. Edward moaned with pleasure as his lips followed the path down her neck and between her breasts, over her trembling belly until he had kissed his way down to where her blood beat for him.

She felt his tongue lick the wound, then he sucked hard on it, barely scraping it with his teeth until the skin broke open and he tasted her blood. The growl he made melted her bones and without conscious thought she opened her thighs wide for him, wanting something only he could give her.

He drank from her for only a few seconds before licking the wound closed. He rested his head on her thigh, panting to come down from the ecstatic climax that taking her blood had given him. Moments after that his mouth found her moist, tender pink flesh, his tongue delved between her other lips and she suddenly felt him deep inside her. Her eyes flashed open as did her mouth and she was about to let out a cry of pure wanton pleasure, but his hand reached up and covered her mouth before she could utter a single sound. His mouth left her moist opening and suddenly his face was above hers, his body looming over her, covering her like the Swan over Leda. "You must not cry out or someone will come to see what ails thee. Be as quiet as possible and I will give thee supreme pleasure."

She nodded but in the next moment he had removed himself from her bed and retreated to the far wall to stand near the unlit fireplace. Her breathy pants were the only sound in the room. She sat up and pulled the cover over her trembling body. "I am sorry." She said. "I did not mean to be so wanton and lose my senses, but it was so much …"

He turned to her with a tender expression. "No need to be sorry. I only stopped to give you a chance to tell me what it is that you desire. As I told you this morning, I am yours, and you are mine. The wedding means nothing to me or my kind. I want to take thee now, tonight. I will take a bit of thy blood and give thee a bit of my venom, but I want to join with thee too. I lust for thy quim. I want to take your maidenhood and give thee the sweetest pleasure in return, but first I must know if it is what you want. I must hear it from your lips, now, when I am standing apart from you. I do not want my influence to sway that decision. So, Isabella, will you become a woman tonight, in the room where I first spilled thy blood? Or do you wish to wait until tomorrow night? We will be sailing then and ye can be as wanton and as wild as the wind." He smiled.

The blush his words caused heated her cheeks, but his eyes held hers steady, giving her the courage to speak of her desire. Her arms stretched out to welcome him back to the bed, "Please come to me. I want to spend the tonight in the arms of my husband, for that is what you are. I want you to show me that pleasure you spoke of." She smiled at him. "We will start our future tonight."

He lay on the bed by her side and kissed her sweetly. His fingers delved again between her thighs, stroking up and down her tender, pink folds. When he had played her until she was quivering, he then slipped his long finger inside. Isabella bit her lip and reminded herself not to make noise, but it was nearly impossible. In moments his mouth left hers to move to one small breast, pulling the nipple into his mouth. The suck could be felt down to her wet quim.

"Edward." She whispered shyly. "I am sorry for getting your finger so wet."

He smiled up at her. "That is as it should be. It readies your body to receive mine. I hope to make you very wet indeed."

And he bent down again to tease at her nipple before moving to the underside of her left breast, biting into the thin skin there and taking in more blood. As he lapped at the blood he'd released he let out a feral growl which sent shivers of need up her spine. "Oh. Edward that feels so good." And it did feel very good, his bite was as a kiss to her flesh, it did not hurt in the slightest; instead it wound her desire tighter, almost to a fevered pitch.

He closed the wound after a few moments and again stilled for a few seconds as he recovered. He whispered against her frantically pounding heart. "It is a struggle not to drain thee dry as my instincts tell me to. I must take but a little and give thee a little in return." He explained. Then he quickly shifted down the bed to lie between her legs, keeping them open with the width of his shoulders. His fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh, preventing her from moving about as his tongue again pushed into her opening. She reached down to hold onto his wild head of hair as his tongue continued its thrust and his upper lip teased her tiny pink nub. She clenched her teeth tightly to muffle the cry of surprise and pure pleasure that wanted to escape. When she thought she could take no more he leapt off the bed and shed his clothing and returned to lay on top of her. He did it so quickly she barely got a glimpse of his rod, but what she did see picked up her heart rate. It looked too big to fit anywhere in her body and panic rose up in her. "Do not be afraid." He whispered on her lips. "Your body was made for this joining." He rested on his forearms above her, his hands soothing her hair back from her heated face. "I have to have thee now, it will be as a pinch, but then we will gain our reward." He kissed her open mouth, burying it beneath his, and as she closed her eyes she felt the first nudge at her entrance where heretofore only his tongue had been. "Trust in me."

She nodded and she felt his stiff flesh push into her opening, making her feel full in a way she had not ever felt before. "Hold onto me." He instructed her, and she released her grip on the sheets and clutched at his arms. "Thou are wet, and warm and heavenly." He moaned. "I must keep control, but it is difficult. I will go as slowly as I can." He promised.

The full feeling grew and then she felt a pain that she had not felt before. It was first a burning pinch and then it became a deep pain and then it started to wane. Edward grunted and stilled, she kept her eyes closed waiting and when he did not move she opened them. "Is it done?" She asked a little disappointed at not feeling any pleasure.

"Aye, tis done." He nodded. "How dost thou feel? Are thee in pain?" He inquired seeing the disappointment in her eyes.

"I am fine. 'Twas not as bad as I had thought it would be. Truthfully, the pain is almost gone." She sighed. "So it is done."

"No, Isabella. It has just begun." And with a groan he sat back on his haunches and pulled her hip onto his thigh. His big hands held her hip bones steady and he started thrusting his flesh into hers.

Isabella could only lay back and watch. Each time he pulled out she saw the swollen thick flesh of that divine rod, it made her moan in anticipation. After a few minutes of the thrusting and rubbing he reached under her back and hoisted her to sit atop his thighs. The new position made it feel as though his cock would reach up into her heart and tear it asunder. A long "Ooooh" broke free from her and one hand behind her head brought her mouth to meet his as he quieted her sounds. The other hand he anchored in the small of her back just above the swell of her bottom, bringing her body down to meet each upward thrust. His hips did not still for a moment, instead he continued his movements with ever increasing vigor, the shaft of his rod stroking her sensitive nub with each pass. The coiling tight delicious feeling was almost too much to bear, she was feeling faint, her heartbeats had galloped a hundredfold, "Please, oh please." She begged him for something. His mouth reached her ear where he whispered darkly, "I will take thee now."

On her back again he thrust harder and harder into her tender quim, but she loved it more and more. The feeling built up rapidly until she was gasping for air. He lay on her as a blanket, the heaviness completing her. She instinctively wrapped her arms and legs around his back, something telling her she needed to hold on tightly. She felt it then, the tearing of his sharp teeth into the skin of her slender neck, just beneath her left ear. Her body tightened and then the release washed over. Ecstatic pleasure rendered her motionless as Edward drank from her rapidly beating pulsepoint. Isabella was transported by the feeling that ran throughout her whole body, the sensation so completely debilitated her that for seconds she was unaware of where she was. She slowly returned to herself to find Edward equally limp, his eyes closed, his head resting on her shoulder. In that moment she saw him as a man, not a god and she loved him. Those three little words rose up in her throat and spilled over her lips. "I love thee." She said softly.

"As do I. I have loved thee forever, I think." He whispered against the place on her neck that bore his mark.

They spent the night holding each other and learning the ways of their flesh. Edward's flesh felt warmer than it ever had before and he explained that it was her blood that gave him that warmth. She was surprised to learn that he had no need for food nor drink, but subsisted on blood alone. He informed her that he could go days without feasting, but the longer he went without the greater the thirst. He had hunted that very evening and had assuaged his thirst with a large bear. Had he not done so, he may have lost control when taking her blood. Isabella also learned that when he took her blood there was a minute exchange of venom from his body to hers, even when they kissed he had given her a bit of it to sustain her and to ensure that she did not grow weaker. Edward asked Isabella of her life in Pfalzburg, inquiring about her day to day routine. He was surprised to learn that she was a schoolmistress and he seemed proud of her intellect and her accomplishments. She learned that he had lived many lifetimes and he and Carlisle only returned to their islands every third generation or so. They left an overseer in charge and managed their properties from abroad through lawyers and emissaries until enough years had passed, they then returned as grandchildren of the previous residents. She asked if it was difficult to spend time away from a home they loved and Edward answered that it was quite nice. They spent the intervening years in London and sometimes years in France or Spain. They had even spent some years in Rome. Isabella was thrilled at the prospect of a few years in Europe. There were so many mysteries to uncover that they talked well into the early morning and she fell asleep mid question as he stroked his hand down the curve of her back.

The following morning she slept in again, but upon waking she knew why and her memories of the previous night were clear. Her mother woke her with a kiss to her forehead and the gifts from Charles and herself. They had readied a full bath for her and she looked forward to it as she had not indulged in one since she had first arrived in Williamsburg. The water was scented with a bit of lavender and rose oil and she basked in the luxury of the finely milled Portuguese soap on her skin. The morning flew by and she dressed in her best petticoat and a floral silk dress, borrowed from Cousin Eliza. Her hair would have to be worn down not up. She asked Annie to arrange the curls to cascade over her left shoulder, hoping to hide the evidence of Edward's passionate embrace the previous night.

The Justice of the Peace, the Reverend Thomas Albright, performed the ceremony, and afterwards they ate in the Newton's dining room. The stewed hen with carrots, the beef roast and the suckling pig were laid out on the table as offerings to their new life. There was boiled new potatoes slathered in butter, green beans and cabbage sallat. For the sweet meal there were pecan and blueberry pies and the most wonderful peach cobbler. All in all it was a midweek feast that everyone enjoyed.

Isabella went upstairs to change out of her borrowed finery and to put on her blue travel dress, over which she wore her green cape and large straw hat. Her valise and portmanteau were already stowed in the carriage and she packed her treasures in her small travel basket. On her way down the stairs she realized she needed to see her father again for one last good-bye. She saw him standing near the front door, obviously waiting to see her and tears came to her eyes.

"Isabella." He hugged her to him. "Dearest daughter."

"Father, do not be sad.' She squeezed his hand between her own. "Thou has been the only man in my life until now. But you have been my greatest influence and the greatest example of what kind of man I should like to marry. And I have found him. I will be happy, I promise thee. And I will return to visit as soon as I can, whether it be here or to Pfalzburg."

"It is a great distance, my dear. It may be years before I see thee again. I will miss you beyond all imagining."

"And I will miss thee. But I will return, I promise." She kissed him on the cheek and turned to hug her mother who had joined them. "Be good to him mother. Remind him he has another child on the way. Take care and don't fret, either one of you."

Edward came up the stairs from the carriage and shook her father's hand. "Have no worries. Isabella is my life now, I will make her happy."

They bid the Newtons goodbye, and Isabella slipped a pound note in Annie's hand as she hugged her. "Treat yourself to something good." she whispered.

They left amid a flurry of hugs and well wishes. In the few miles to the port Isabella cried her heart out and Edward hugged her to his side and spoke in hushed tones to his brother. He knew nothing he could say would ease the heartache but as he had promised her father, he would make her happy.


	4. Chapter 4

Four Black Sails

Dusk blended to twilight and then the dark was suddenly upon them. Before long the inverted bowl of indigo sky was sprinkled with stars. There was great action going on aloft as sailors scurried to adjust the topsail and secure the ropes. Soon the anchor was hoisted, the gangplank was stowed and with a great groan, _Cullen's Fancy_ finally set out to sea. McCarty was at his post on the forecastle and Isabella and Edward stood at the rails of the aftcastle where she kept a wistful eye on the shore, bidding a final farewell to the family and the life she had known. Edward brought his arms up and wrapped them around her, holding her back tightly to his chest as if sheltering her from her sorrow. His intention was to remind her that he was now her husband and that he would be there to share in everything that affected her, even her grief. He did not attempt to coax her into a better mood nor to urge her to accompany him down to the cabin, he knew instinctively that she would not want to look away until she could see the coast no more.

_Would she ever see her mother and father again?_ She worried. Her intention and desire to do so was there, but..._ What if her mother should not survive childbirth?_ _What if something were to happen to her dear father?_ All of a sudden a sob rose up in her throat and she burst into tears. He kissed her hair and held her tighter than before, more than willing to absorb some of her grief. Soothed by his tender caress she quieted after a few minutes. They stood there for a while watching the coast recede, and in minutes another bout of tears pinched at her lids and a sob rose again, but before she could let it out, Edward murmured in her ear. "Be encouraged, I have asked my brother to retrieve an elixir and herbs from Madame Zafrina in Havana. She is a gifted midwife and will surely fix what ails thy mother. Once we return to our island he will journey to Havana without us and then back to Williamsburg."

He kissed the delicate curve of her ear. "Carlisle will instruct thy cousin how to administer it. I believe your mother will be well, and will give birth to a healthy baby, so have faith." She nodded, overcome with gratitude, appreciating the concern and generosity of the Cullen brothers. Isabella turned in her husband's arms and hugged him tightly, resting her head against his chest. She inhaled his scent and closed her eyes in comfort, for the first time welcoming the dreamlike quality that being in his arms brought her.

"Who is Madame Zafrina?" she inquired, wanting to be distracted from her misery.

His soothing voice surrounded her, cocooning her as he related the tale of another life. "She is the granddaughter of an old friend, whom Carlisle and I met under less than ideal circumstances. Zafrina is special, she has the double gift of healing in her blood. Her grandfather, Kumara, was a gifted healer and her mother was Yuilsa, an Arawak priestess."

"How did you come to meet them?" The timbre of his voice rumbling in his chest under her ear soothed her as she listened.

"Kumara was just a young man, no more than ten and five, when he was captured outside his village. He was beaten, shackled and bound for Jamaica by slave ship when he met with even more misfortune. It is a sad story not unlike Captain McCarty's. Kumara was chained at the neck and holding onto a piece of driftwood and was nearing the end when we came upon him, floating like a ragdoll in the great blue; I could smell death on his breath. He was the one and only survivor of a ship that once carried more than four hundred bodies, a great many from his own tiny village.

Years later he recounted to us that he had heard booming noises and then there was the roar of a fire. It spread so quickly most died right where they lay, and he might have suffered that same fate but by a miracle one of the crew fell dead right next to him. The dead man still had his machete on him. Kumara took it and cut the hand and feet off the dead slave who was shackled to him and thus managed to escape the entangled bodies. Unfortunately he was still locked in the hold with no chance for escape; again he may have perished if fortune had not smiled on him. The damaged barque began to collapse around him and suddenly he found a break in the ceiling and managed to escape to the deck. He jumped overboard holding on to a piece of timber for without it the chains around his neck and feet would cause him to sink. Minutes later the ship was only a pile of burning wreckage on the open sea. All lives but his was lost.

When we found him and brought him on board our vessel, he was so still. We could not say for how long he had drifted, all we know he was burned and delirious. Only the power of his strong mind had saved him, he had put himself in a trance so as to not succumb to thirst and hunger and heat stroke. That slave ship had gone down near St. Vincent and we journeyed for almost a day and took him to our islands where he recovered. Eventually he became our rigger then our boatswain, but he was deeply unhappy. For he was not a sailor at heart; he was a born mystic and healer.

One fateful day we sailed to the Mayaguana and that is where he met Yuilsa, an Arawak healer. She was much older but they were of like mind, she was his match. Kumara showed her the powers of his medicine and that of the Yoruba gods and she showed him the healing and mind altering power of the medicines she knew.

By that time Carlisle and I had been sailing the Caribbean and living on our islands for more than twenty years. It was time to return to Europe and live another life for a while. With the gold he had acquired Kumara and Yuilsa moved to Santiago de Cuba. Years later they had a son, Kerube. Zafrina is Kerube's daughter; she was tutored by her grandfather who saw that she was born to be a great healer.

Zafrina is now nearing sixty years old, but looks much younger, she is a gifted midwife and doctor. She is as a goddaughter to me, so I trust her with your mother's care. She has such a great knowledge of the healing arts that many of the Europeans in Havana eschew the doctors and come directly to her. Even Carlisle, who studied medicine at Edinburgh University alongside Alexander Monro, is impressed with her extensive knowledge of plant poultices and elixirs."

A calmness came over her as she heard him tell his tale, she trusted his judgment when he said he spoke of Zafrina.

A gust of the breeze blew her hat off and it dangled on the back, suspended from the sash. He swept the tendrils of her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead tenderly. "My beautiful wife, do not worry."

"I will try not to." Isabella stood in the shelter of his arms reflecting on the tale he had told her. "I had no idea that Carlisle studied medicine, when did he do that?" She asked.

"When we left the Caribbean we returned to London for awhile. We managed our merchant trade business from there for many years, but it is not as exciting as riding the high seas, trading, talking business and visiting ports. Carlisle was particularly restless; he travelled all over seeking an interest that would occupy his days. Eventually he journeyed to northern Italy where he met a medical student whose interest in healing reminded him of Kumara. His knowledge of the Italian tongue, while fluent enough for conversation, was not as extensive as he would need for the study of medicine. Edinburgh University was one of the best centers for medical education, it rivaled Paris and Leiden. He studied there for a few years and became a doctor. In the meantime I happened to become interested in architecture and I also became a student there for awhile. We lived in Scotland for another ten years, he as a doctor and me as an architect. But, as I have told thee, we cannot remain in any one place for an extended time, so we gave it up to return to the sea. That was years ago."

The lives these brothers have lived was the stuff of great adventures, and she only now realized that she was bound to experience great adventures as well. What a life lay before her! What a gift she had been given! The only drawback is that while she would be a witness to history she would also be a witness to sorrow. The first sorrow would be surviving the loss of her dear parents. Even if her mother survived this pregnancy, there will come a day when her mortal body would succumb to death, it was unavoidable. "Thou hast lived a long time, and have seen so much. Loved ones have had children and grandchildren, and left this earth. Doesn't seeing all of that make thee sad and weary?" She asked him.

"Aye. I must confess that there were times when I've become weary indeed; not in body but in spirit. When my great friend William died I was nearly inconsolable. Death found him suddenly while I was away and before I could return to Stratford he was gone. It was unexpected and I had no chance to say goodbye. Then again when I found Zafrina and inquired about Kumara; that was a dark day for me. Many years had passed and I knew he would be gone but I was not prepared to hear of his suffering. Kumara was the gentlest soul I had ever met until I met thee; he sought only to heal and never to cause harm. His dark eyes understood pain and he knew instinctively the source of it. In his lifetime I am sure he saved many from a painful untimely death; which is why the way he passed from this world hurt me so."

"How did he die?"

"He was an old man walking home at the end of a long day; he was hit over the head with the butt end of an axe and kicked and beaten. He lost consciousness before he was robbed. What did he have in his pocket? A piece of silver and some herbs that he was delivering to a patient on his way home. The thief left him in the street to die like unwanted vermin. An angel was murdered that day on the streets of Havana. The cruelty of this world never ceases to surprise me. For the most part the good in this world far outweighs the bad. But when evil rears its ugly head the level of horror humanity can sink to is as a bottomless pit.

In my years I have come to realize most people are followers, if they have an example of good to follow they will follow and if they have an example of evil they will follow that too. In some ways they all desire a prophet, a leader, someone who can tell them what the greater cause is; but in truth there is no requirement that the prophet be moral. Morality seems to wax and wane with the times, the king we obey today, may be the king we behead tomorrow.

Right now the evil of acquiring riches at all costs has led many to use slavery as a tool to grow their wealth. Fine, upstanding, churchgoing folk like the Newtons do not care that villages are pillaged, young women are raped, that the youngest and brightest of Africa are parceled out all over the world to endure a lifetime of unthinkable cruelty. They only care about the silver and gold lining their pockets. These folks rail against the pirates who raid and rob the riches from ships, never recognizing that they themselves are pirates who raid and rob an entire continent and take what they please as if it is their right to do so. I see them as no better than the thief that robbed Kumara and left him to die." At this he shook his head sorrowfully and Isabella knew he was grieving for his good friend all over again.

She reached up and brought his head down to her shoulder, caressing his nape and holding him as if he were a child. "Oh my dear, dear Edward, you have such a sensitive soul. It is undeniable that cruelty is visited on the deserving and undeserving alike. We cannot change mankind, but we must endeavor to do good in our own lives day to day. Kumara was blessed in many ways. Against all those calamities he survived, met a kindred spirit and triumphed. He made his mark on every person he healed and he lives on in his granddaughter who does the same. He is gone but his life was not in vain, for he lived it doing what he was meant to do. By all earthly measures he lived a good life. Which is all God wants us to do." Kissing his forehead, she whispered sweet soothing words to him. The breeze cooled and nipped at them both until she burrowed into him and he squeezed her tightly.

"Dear Isabella, thy words soothe me. I have lived a very long life and it has taken me this long to find thee, my love. Thou hast saved me, I think. I look on thee as my prophet for I know of no one else with a soul as sweet as thine. It is combined with a deep intellect and a brave, loving heart. I think our lives together will keep me uplifted and stave off my dark thoughts. I cannot become weary of the world when I have thee to look upon."

She laughed. "Oh, Edward. I'm afraid you may see something in me that does not truly exist. If I doubted your love before I don't now, for it must be blind love that causes you to see these qualities in me. I have no other explanation to make sense of this undeserved adulation."

"It is not undeserved, my dear. Come with me to bed. 'Tis late and ye are getting cold." He whispered.

She covered his lips with the tips of her fingers. "We will go soon. Let us wait a few more minutes?" Isabella wanted to be alone with him but she was keenly aware that she was the only woman among many men on the brigantine; she had no intention of inviting their speculation by retiring to bed so early. Once the vessel was well under way they could go to bed and that would be soon enough. He kissed the tips of the fingers she held pressed to his lips before removing them and kissing her full on the mouth, he teased at her softness until she parted them and let him in. He tucked his hand under her cape and ran it up and down her back, with each downward pass he caressed more and more of her bottom. Isabella pushed at his chest gently and when he finally released her lips she admonished him. "Edward, we should not give a show." His laughter was deep and he shook his head but stopped his bold moves.

Edward's voice deepened to a husk and he bent to whisper in her ear. "Come with me to the bed below and I will demonstrate another reason why I love thee. I cannot be so many hours without delighting in that sweet, wet quim."

"Shhh! Edward!" She blushed and looked around to see if anyone was paying him mind.

"Come with me and I will not say another word about how my lips long to taste thy deliciousness …" she again placed her hand over his mouth, and hid her face against his shoulder. She was now certain he was trying to be overheard.

"Oh, Edward, do hush. I will go first and you can follow in a little while. This is the most horrible blackmail." She whispered back.

"Aye, that it is." he whispered before he once again allowed his voice to rise in volume. He was no longer willing to be quiet and his tone was taunting. "But I need thee tonight, and every night. And I need thee in the mornings too. I'll need thee in the midday sun. I will take thee on the widow's walk on the roof of my home on the island. It will be sublime."

Her cheeks colored red with the embarrassment brought on by his words and by the fact that there were several sailors on the rigging right above their heads. Isabella dashed from the aftcastle down the stairs to the deck and to the door of the Captain's quarters. She made it there in less than thirty seconds, Edward's laughter following her to her destination. She prayed no one had heard his lewd words.

Throwing the door open, she ran inside the nearly dark room, flinging herself face down onto the bed. The door slammed shut seconds afterwards as Edward entered behind her. "So, my wife, I see thou art as eager as I to get started on the honeymoon." She sat up and turned fuming eyes onto him. His laughter boomed in the space until she laughed too.

Isabella got up from the bed and undid the sash to take off her hat and turned to place it on a hook. She watched as Edward took the one lit candle from the copper lantern suspended near the bed and went around the cabin touching the wick to the others in order to give the room more light. "I hope that sailor did not hear those lascivious words, Edward Cullen. If he had he will know exactly what we are doing here in this cabin."

He chuckled as he replaced the candle in its housing and turned to look at her with a wicked smile. "Everyone knows what we are doing, Isabella. We were married just this morning; do you really think there is even one of them on this ship who does not know that I am bedding thee tonight?"

She fell back onto the bed with a thump. "Oh, heaven help me, I am so ashamed. I hope and pray that none of them are thinking on that at all."

"Thou should never be ashamed of taking pleasure from me. And I can tell thee straight; tonight they are all thinking of exactly that and wishing they were in my shoes. There is not a man aboard, save Carlisle, who does not wish he were me tonight."

She clasped her hands together and held them near her heart as if in fervent prayer. "Darling, I will not be able to ever look in their eyes again if I hear such things. I do not want to dwell on what they are thinking, in truth I would like to forget about them all together. I would like to pretend they do not exist, that there is only you and I and the sea and sky."

He came to her then, gently moving her further up on the bed and resting on his hands and knees as he settled over her. "Do not worry. When I am in thee, they will all be forgotten; everything else will be forgotten." And he burrowed into her neck, licking at her wound. "I need thee so much." He whispered, before rolling over and releasing her. "Get up, wife, and undress for me."

She skittered off the bed and stood up, and as she did so she could not help but to stare at him as he lay there looking up at her. "Thou art quite possibly the most beautiful rogue that ever walked on earth." She whispered to herself and he laughed out loud.

"Aye, now _that_ is blind love. My face has flaws, my nose was broken in a scrap when I was twelve, and I've been told that this eye is decidedly sleepy looking." He stood up then and he held her cheeks between each palm and looked her over as if committing her face to memory. "How is it possible that a tiny human, such as thou art, can make me tremble with want? I would have never thought it possible, but thou hast made a believer of me. For two centuries my belief in miracles had waned to nothing. Now I believe that it was my fate that I would be changed just so that I could cross two centuries to find thee and lie blissful in thy arms. My becoming an immortal had a purpose and that purpose was to find thee."

Her breath was caught as her heart grew full. "Thy words to me are like honey to the bees, they drug me and make me forget everything but being with thee. I can do nothing else but follow my natural inclination."

His hand reached up and undid the tie of the cape from around her neck and whisked it off and let it fly towards the chair. Then he sat back on the edge of the bed holding her lightly between his long legs, tucking his face momentarily between her small breasts and breathing in. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on it until he looked up at her, then she bent and kissed him quickly. He smiled up at her. "Now, I beg thee undress; I long to see thee naked and wanton and wild, as nature intended. My beautiful wife, please me so that I can please thee. Start with taking down thy hair, for I have been longing to run my hand through those beautiful curls all day."

Isabella pulled at the two combs that held the high bun above her ear in place. She uncoiled it and ran her fingers through it to dislodge the little pins, and her captive curls fell loose to her waist. "Aaah." Edward sighed with satisfaction reaching forward to pull gently at one lock, releasing it to watch it curl again.

She then undid the hooks on her blue dress that affixed it to the stomacher. She removed the stomacher and undid the dress, letting it fall around her ankles. She quickly bent down and threw them on top of the cloak. Then she untied and removed her fancy over petticoat and was left in only her under things. She stood in front of him clad only in her thin petticoat, her stay and her shift. It was only then that she remembered her desire to wear the silks for her husband. "Edward? Would thee prefer that I should wear the French silks that you gave to me?"

He picked up her arm and kissed up the tender skin from wrist to elbow. "No. I prefer the silk of thy skin."

"Then why did you purchase them?" she inquired.

"So that I can remove them, of course; but not tonight Isabella. Tonight I am impatient to learn thee with my mouth and hands. Wear the silks tomorrow, hmm?"

"Yes, my husband." She drew back a little and raised her feet to his lap and Edward undid the lacing on each one of her kid shoes and slipped them off, taking the opportunity to run his hand over her stockings, up and down from her ankles to her knees and back again.

"Shall I take these off for thee?" He asked and she nodded. He untied the ribbons at the top of the silken hose and rolled each one slowly down and off, only to caress her from knee to ankle again once they were off. "Skin as fine as silk." He murmured and she laughed.

"Sir, if you continue to touch me every time I remove a garment it will be a while before I am undressed." She teased him as she put the stockings and shoes aside.

"Take off the rest of thy clothing, Isabella. It is not I who am taking too long." He replied loving the teasing glint in her eyes.

She smiled and undid her under petticoat tossing it on the ever growing pile. She reached inside the front of her stay and removed the long busk which was made of balsa wood. "Give that to me." Her husband demanded. She passed it to him wondering why he wanted it. Without even looking at it he threw it aside. "I have a little gift for thee." He went to his own valise and retrieved a beautifully carved busk made of ivory. "I bought this in town yesterday, before I proposed. I could not resist for it says exactly what I would want it to had I inscribed it myself."

She read it and smiled and then read it again aloud. _"I can think of no better heaven than here, warmed by the heart of my love, surrounded by her sweet perfume, I eagerly return again and again to my corner of paradise. Edward." _ She smiled up at him and gave him peck on the cheek. "I thank thee, dear husband. I shall wear it every day, close to my heart."

Isabella kissed the busk and set it aside as she reached behind her back and started to unlace the ribbons of her stay. "Dost thou need my help?" he inquired.

"It is not necessary for I usually manage to undo it without assistance, but if it pleases thee to help…" She replied and turned her back to her husband." Edward moved her long hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. He undid the lacing in a thrice and she clutched at it as it fell loose, he took the opportunity to slide his hands beneath the stay and reached around to squeeze her breasts in his two palms. "Edward." she gasped out in surprise.

"Thy breasts are heavenly." He whispered in her ear as he rubbed the soft swells and the stiff nipples that crowned them. One hand soon left her breast and skimmed down the soft plane of her belly until it reached its intended goal; squeezing her mound through the thin shift. "But this, this is the treasure that I seek. Dost thou enjoy making me wait so long for it? I am almost panting like an animal."

She let out a teasing laugh. "Just a bit longer, I promise." He released her and sat back on the bed, his legs splayed wide as he stared up at her. Isabella turned and went to blow out the candles he had lit only minutes before.

"Leave them." He ordered.

In a scandalized whisper she denied his wish. "Edward, I cannot disrobe in so much light. I shall leave one lit but I am too modest to parade around naked."

"I hope that thou will soon lose thy bashfulness." He muttered.

The cabin was soon lit by only one small flicker and the silver moon shining through the window panes. Turning, she laughed as she looked at him still fully dressed on the bed. "What of thee? Are thee too shy to undress?"

"Shy? I have not been shy since I was a child of three. And even then I was not shy about showing my body, I ran around half naked most of the time."

"That must have been nice for thy mother and father, having such a beautiful cherub in their midst."

"I was never an angel, Isabella. There were times, I'm sure, when my mother thought me the devil himself."

"I cannot believe that."

"Believe it. But I am not undressing just yet. I want thee naked and I shall kiss thee all over. I shall learn what pleases thee most, whether it is my kiss on the nape of the neck or my tongue on the back of thy knee. When I am done pleasing thee, then it will be thy turn to please me."

"Oh!" She remembered her mother mentioning just this. "Is it thy desire that I kiss thee all over as well?"

"Yes, but first things first. Take that dastardly shift off and show me that beautiful body." Isabella complied, undoing the two little buttons at the very top and pulling the linen shift over her head. She tossed it aside and stood there, one arm was clasped cross her breast hiding the rosy nipples but little else, the other hand shielding her mound. He sat there, still as stone, looking her over from top to toe, until she wanted to hide.

"Edward?" she inquired "What is it?"

"If there is one thing I want thee to know, it is that thou are the most exquisite thing I have ever laid eyes on. There is no need to be shy, be like the red rose, show thyself in all thy glory."

A smile dawned on her face as her shoulders relaxed.

"Come here." He reached a hand out to her as he beckoned her to come and lie beside him on the bed. "I have need of thee." He murmured.

She uncovered her body and took hold of his outstretched arm and allowed him to pull her down beside him on the bed.

"Alas, I have thee at my mercy." He whispered onto her lips as he held her hands above her head. "Last night I was gentle and slow, but tonight I want to show thee much more, will you let me?"

She nodded. "I want everything you can give me, Edward."

"I want to lave thee all over and take thee from behind like a wild animal, but I will be gentle with thee, I promise. I will make it feel so good." He whispered along her neck, licking at the bruise there. "My mark looks good on thee. It pleases me to see it."

"Does it?"

He nodded. "It tells the world that thou art mine." He smiled with satisfaction.

"I am." She agreed. "All of me belongs to thee."

"All mine." While his one hand held both of her wrists above her head, his other moved to her mound. "Open for me." He demanded. She willingly spread her thighs to allow his hand into her wet folds. His middle finger delved into her wet pocket and his thumb strummed at her pink button. "Oh, Edward." She cried out, feeling exposed and vulnerable but willingly so. The sight of his bent head taking her nipple between his lips stirred her desire even more. Her breaths came faster as his thumb continued to press and rub at her now stiff nub. His strokes became more vigorous and she felt the tide of ecstasy coming fast and it quickly washed over her. Her thighs clamped around his hand and her eyes closed as she rode the wave, feeling every nerve end tingle. His hand stilled but his mouth continued to lap at her nipple.

"I love thee." She heard him murmur against her heart. Then he began to kiss her all over. She felt the touch of his lips on her eyelids and cheekbones and then on her lips as he blessed them. "I love thee, Isabella." He whispered as she felt the sweep of his tongue at her lobe and along the outer shell of her ear. She shivered with reawakened desire and her eyes opened to see him kissing down her arms to the bend of her elbow. Then he bit her right there, sucking hard so she felt it in her bones, then laving soft so that she felt it at her core. "Does that feel good?" he inquired his heavy lidded eyes opening to look into hers with a fevered desire.

"Yes, in so many ways." She replied, for it made her happy to know that her body was a feast to him. He could devour her and she would want to give him even more. Her love for him knew no bounds, she was happy to give him her body and her blood. It was a religious experience, she was the lamb and she would give and give until he was sated.

He kept his eyes on hers as his mouth drifted down her body, lavishing kisses, nips and sucks on her breasts her belly, her hips, down her thighs and past her knees to her toes. He kissed her toes and bit her arch, then bid her turn over. She was a mass of limp flesh and made no move to comply.

He moved forward to lie between her thighs, his hardness probing her softness through the fabric of his breeches. He held himself on his outstretched arms above her. "The look on thy face makes me want to stay here forever." He said as he rubbed his hips into hers.

"That does sound like my idea of heaven." She whispered.

He bent his elbows and kissed her stroking his tongue into her mouth until she felt him harden even more. He withdrew from her and kissed his way down her throat, ran his lips along her clavicle and down to her little pink nipples. He heard her draw in a sharp breath of anticipation and he jutted out the tip of his tongue to lick her gently. The very tip of her nipple tightened to a point, seeming to reach toward his tongue. "Like this?"

"Suck." She moaned out. He laughed and licked her again teasing her until she grabbed his hair and brought his head to her breast. "Do it." She begged. He opened his mouth and covered her entire nipple and sucked it in to his mouth, twirling his tongue around it until she groaned with pleasure.

Switching to the next nipple he took it his mouth while rubbing her bottom. "Turn over." He said again, this time taking her shoulders in his hands and turning her onto her belly. He pressed himself on top, and moved her long hair aside to kiss her on her cheek. He then kissed his way down her spine until he reached the upper curve of her bottom, then she felt the scrape of his sharp teeth. It thrilled her when she felt the gentle bite. "Aaah." She squealed and then he kissed the bite soothingly.

His mouth wandered down her thighs, kissing his way down to the sensitive skin on the back of her knees. Her leg moved up and he moved it back and held it down. "This is where I shall make my next mark." And he bit her there, drawing blood, again she felt the pull in her quim, and a gush of wetness flowed when he licked the wound closed. She felt his climax tremble through him. He took a minute to recover and returned to rest his chest on her back as he kissed the nape of her neck again.

Suddenly she felt the cool air on her back as he removed himself and she watched him as he stood next to the bed to quickly undress. In seconds he returned and knelt over her, enjoying the view of her posterior. His hand caressed her it and he husked in her ear, "I love this ripe bottom; it is unmerciful to hide it beneath the hoop skirts."

He moaned as he started rubbing up and down the back of her legs, his thumbs rubbing up on her inner thigh, stopping just at the point where they met the wet folds of her moist quim. He did that until he had her begging. Then his thumbs lingered by her moist opening a bit, rubbing then delving in. Oh the heavenly feel as he put both thumbs in, swirling them around in her moist heat, then opening her up, preparing her for the invasion of his thick, hard cock.

With a sudden movement his hands gripped her hips and pulled her up to her hand and knees and she felt the brush of his legs as they slid in between her own, pushing her knees apart. Not knowing what to expect next, she moaned when she felt the glide of his stiff rod against her wetness. He stroked her back and forth, his hard flesh slipping against her sensitive moistness over and over until she begged him, "Do it to me."

"Do what?" he asked huskily, knowing full well what she wanted.

"Take me, please."

"Now?" He teased. When she nodded he plunged in completely. "Is this what thou desires?"

"Dear god, yes. Oh yes. Do it harder."

"I want to do it harder but I am afraid I will get carried away and hurt thee."

"Do not be tender, I beg thee. If it becomes too much I will ask thee to stop."

He surrendered himself to her will and pushed in and out as hard as he dared do. His strong hands held onto and moved her hips to and fro in rhythm with each hard thrust. He reached under her to rub the center of her pleasure and she started to moan.

"Yes, please. It feels so good." She cried. Isabella's words and moans rose in tempo and in volume as Edward continued to rub her faster. Each of his powerful thrusts pushed her further toward that pleasure and when he pinched her little nub she collapsed in a series of wild cries. However he was not done and he pulled her pliant body up to kneeling, holding her with one arm around her waist and the other at her shoulder as he thrust up into her. He sunk his teeth once again into the pulsing vein in her neck and drew her blood in with quick, strong sucks. As before the sensation multiplied her pleasure and she fell into ecstasy, not sure if she was in this realm or the next. "Ahh, god I am dying." She groaned out. Edward continued to pull from her pulse as he pumped into her until he himself had been satisfied. He pulled away from her neck as he reached his peak, and she loved hearing his grunt of satiety as he called out her name.

Afterwards they lay there on the bed in a tangle of limbs, Isabella panting to draw breath and Edward licking his lips. Both were smiling with the after effects of the lingering satisfaction. She could not help but reach her hand out to touch his perfect lips, and he could not help it but to kiss her tender fingers. "Have I fulfilled my promise?" he inquired lazily.

"Edward, I never thought that I could feel so good. I am amazed that lying with thee can bring me a pleasure beyond any I had ever imagined."

"Oh Isabella, this is just a bit of what I have in store for thee. After the turning, thy appetite for making love will be second only to thy appetite for blood, believe me. And then I need not hold back, for thou will be as strong as I."

"Was that holding back?" she asked laughingly. "It did not feel that way."

He brushed one finger from her forehead down the length of her nose across her swollen lips to the tip of her chin. "I must take care for I have been given an irreplaceable fortune. My strength is such that I can break thee quite easily, so I have held back. But do not think that I have not enjoyed myself thoroughly, for I have. It is just different with immortals."

Her heart stuttered to a halt, and she had a question that she never entertained before. She swallowed a lump in her throat and staring into his eyes she asked. "Edward, are you saying that have you shared your body with an immortal before?"

"Yes. Immortals and mortals." He nodded, eyes holding hers.

"Oh." She could look no longer look at him and turned on her back to close her eyes.

He left her to her thoughts for only a minute before leaning over her and grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Isabella." He said and when she opened her eyes again she saw the softness in his. "Isabella, I have lived almost two hundred years, of course I have had others. Did you think otherwise?"

"Others? Have there been many others?" she asked hesitatingly, for she was not sure she wanted to know.

"Yes." He kissed her then, two lips pressed chastely to hers. "But none have I loved. Only thee." Her heart thrilled at his words, for she did want to be the only; just as he was her one and only.

"Then why? If thou did not love before…"

"I could answer that in many ways. When I was a mortal man I dallied because it is instinct and it is expected. If some lass was willing and wanted to seek a few hours of pleasure I was more than happy to comply. Then when I became an immortal and fed on a willing female it satisfied both thirsts. With other immortals, I was seeking a bond, something more."

"Did you find it?" She felt she knew the answer, but she wanted to be sure.

"No. I have found that only with thee and I am immeasurably happy. And thee?"

"I am also immeasurably happy." She moved into his arms, holding him tightly. And when a few minutes later he rolled her onto her back again she had forgotten all about his past.

~BTWDS~

Before even opening her eyes, she reached instinctively for her husband. Her left hand encountered his hard chest and she moved to snuggle into his side, burrowing in the space between his arm and his chest, relishing the scent of him. The sunlight streamed through the window panes that made up the wall that was the rear of the vessel. "How are thee this morning my wife?"

She turned on her back and stretched luxuriously. "I did not sleep much, but surprisingly, I am not tired. I feel ready for the day but relaxed at the same time." She responded.

"My venom is giving thee strength." He responded. "Thou are already on the path to immortality. Do you feel any different?" He asked. She remembered how he had bitten her twice more in the night; the first time under her breast, near her beating heart, and the second on the inner elbow of her left arm.

"Perhaps." She responded pondering the question. "I feel as though I can do most anything. I cannot explain it, but I am wanting to run and swim; I feel as though my body cannot contain my eagerness. My senses are heightened. The sky seems bluer, the air clearer. I can hear the move of each person aboard this vessel. Even the feel of your skin beneath my fingertips feels more stimulating than before. I hear the low thrum of heartbeats getting louder."

"Those are dolphins approaching; they are a few minutes away, coming fast as they ride toward us on the faster current."

"Dolphins?"

"Yes, I think the heartbeats are theirs, for I hear them too, and I am familiar with the sound."

She stretched out beside him. "Edward, I am of two minds. I would like to get dressed and go up on deck and see the dolphins, for I have never seen them before, but I would like to stay in bed with thee longer."

Edward rolled over on top of her and kissed her until she was wild for him, running her hands the length of his naked back to his hips and moving herself under him seductively until he grew hard. "There will be many opportunities to see dolphins. We may even see them from the window here. I prefer that we stay here in this bed for as long as we can. I want thee again and I don't want to waste time. There will be weeks, maybe months, when your primary desire will be only to feed. Let us make the most of the time we have now. You are warm and delicious, I can think of no better way to spend the next few days."

Her thighs opened to cradle him between them and he ground himself into her, she was ready for him, the wetness that his words engendered urging him to take her immediately. "You're wet already? Were you dreaming of this, my love? Were you dreaming of seeking that rapture that joining with me brings?"

"In truth, I think of nothing else, whether awake or asleep." She ran her hands through his wild hair and down over his strong jaw. "I want thee so much."

"Then have me. Let us enjoy each other, here in the cabin all day. I will be thy servant, bringing thee food and drink, anything thy heart wants. Let us do nothing else but indulge our desire for each other."

"Is it not too decadent to lay abed all day while the sun shines?"

"What is to stop us? We have no obligation to be above deck, Captain McCarty is capable of taking care of whatever situation arises and if there is another need Carlisle is able to take charge. We can stay here, I only need your agreement."

"You have it." She said as she pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his throat. Needing no other encouragement he joined his flesh to hers and they determined to spend all day in pursuit of wanton pleasures.

All that day and the next they made love and slept. Edward would leave her only to bring back some sustenance: some cider, corn biscuits, a bit of smoked meat and for dessert there were little gingerbread cakes. He brought a tin pail with pickled lemon water laced with brandy, and said she should drink it to ward off stomach ailments. Later in the night, when she hoped everyone had settled down abed, she snuck out with Edward and stood once more in his arms at the rail of the aftcastle. The fresh air did her body good and she breathed it in as she enjoyed the moon drenched ocean. "I am so happy, Edward."

"I am glad, for that is my greatest desire, to see thee happy." He held her tightly and kissed her hair. They stood like that enveloped in each other's arms for many minutes. Words were unnecessary for they now knew each others' hearts. Her sight was keen and it seemed as though each star was brighter than before. In the far distance, several miles away, she thought she saw a schooner with four black sails. "Is that what I think it is?" she inquired pointing to the vessel in the distant horizon.

"Aye. It is a pirate ship, and by the looks of it a schooner moving to the southeast."

"Should we avoid it by giving it a wide berth?"

"We are headed that way but will not cross their path. It looks as though they are moving away from us. But believe me you have never been in less jeopardy than at this moment. Should anyone make the mistake of engaging with us, Carlisle and I would kill all on that vessel before they could blink twice. So do not fear."

"But are we not headed south west towards St. Augustin for more goods and supplies?"

"Yes we are, but they have already passed the mark where our paths would cross, so we shall not encounter them. By midday we should reach St. Augustin, load on new cargo and fresh food and drink for thee. It should take no more than a few hours and we will be on our way home."

Isabella watched until the schooner with the black sails disappeared at the edge of the horizon, only then did she breathe easy again.

Eventually they left the starry night and returned to their love nest to wrap themselves in each other again.


	5. Chapter 5

Five Little Fingers

That was a restless night for Isabella as she was never able to sink into a deep sleep. Although her body ached from the new physical exertion of being with her husband she could not reach that ultimate state of rest. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar rocking of the vessel, maybe she was missing her parents, or perhaps an even more simple explanation: she was overly tired.

At first, Edward thought it likely that her restless tossing could be attributed to the fact that she was in a state of transition; being half-way between human and immortal. For unlike his wife, he had no need to indulge in that restful endeavor. It is the blessing, or curse, of his kind that sleep eluded them. Though it was easy for an immortal to sit, lie or even stand perfectly still for hours upon hours; the ability to lose complete awareness of their surroundings and fall into the dream state was an impossibility.

He lay beside his wife as she tossed and turned, kicked and heaved. At one point in the middle of the night she sat up and turned to him as though wide-awake and said, "I think the black sails have come for me." Then she fell back on the bed with a sigh and drifted into another fitful sleep. He could not tear his eyes away as she gritted her teeth and moved her head from side to side, sometimes frowning and sometimes moaning fearfully.

Edward did not know exactly what fears troubled her mind. From her mumbled words he could discern that her dreams were more than influenced by the schooner they had seen earlier but he was a bit perplexed. He had made every effort to reassure her and he was sure that she'd understood that being with him meant that she was as safe as could be; but her disquiet showed him that she had not believed his reassurances. At times she would hold a breath for a long time and then start panting as if in fear. He tried to calm her with words and caresses but she only grew more wild, and her hair stuck to her forehead as she kicked off the cover only to pull it back over her minutes later. She thrashed and groaned, and he wished his uncanny ability would allow him to see into _her_ mind and know what was happening behind those fluttering eyelids.

Isabella's dreams consisted of a myriad frightening images. The first were of dense island jungles and dangerous swamps and strangling plants. In her dreams it was a dark, dark world. Something was behind her, growling and snapping at her heels, but she had no idea what creature it was. She could not turn her head to see, for she knew doing so would mean certain death. Her legs strained as she ran full speed ahead, her thighs ached and she could feel leaves and twigs catch in her hair. It was pitch black and she could see virtually nothing; she only felt the breath on the back of her neck from the unknown wild animal when she stumbled and fell. Then she was falling and falling finally landing in a pond. Suddenly she was sinking down, down, in thick dank water, unable to breathe; her arms flailed, reaching out for anything to hold onto when she was pulled out and rescued.

But her rescuers had plans for her. She found herself on the edge of a beach, bound and gagged and tied to a stake; fierce, brown-skinned natives were stoking a fire. One approached her with a dagger raised above his head as if to stab her through the heart, she shook her head, silently begging him not to kill her. But before he could complete his murderous intent, a wild red headed pirate jumped in between them and the natives scattered.

She then found herself, taken aboard. The pirate had his back to her as he helmed the ship, staring out to sea. There she stood, sword in hand, on the deck of the feared schooner with the black sails whipping overhead. Without thought she raised the weapon in her hand and sliced his head from his shoulders, only then realizing that the pirate was Edward.

When Isabella awoke the following morning, the fear remained and Edward was no longer beside her. Sighing ruefully, she lay her head on his pillow for a moment so that she could connect with him through his lingering scent. Although it had only been two days since they'd begun sharing a bed, it felt surprisingly poignant to wake-up alone. Her senses were sharp enough now that she could hear Edward talking to Carlisle but their voices were too faint for her to hear exactly what was being discussed. She quickly dressed and opened the door of the cabin, glancing at the door across from hers, the one to Carlisle's cabin. The brothers' voices were still too muffled to hear and she was torn, wanting to tell Edward that she was going up on deck, but she did not want to disturb them.

For the first time since meeting the Cullen brothers, she felt a little guilty for keeping Edward to herself. After all, Carlisle was used to having his brother by his side and she did not wish to alienate him. So she decided to let them be and she went on deck alone.

Up on deck the wind was in their favor and the red sails were billowing in the strong breeze which carried them quickly toward their destination. She turned her head towards the helm and saw old Captain McCarty with a smile on his grizzled features, his face turned in to the wind. The old sailor was in his element, man and vessel were as one being, as he used all his expertise towards constraining nature's force and putting it to his own use. She smiled to herself at the sight and turned her head back to the horizon.

It was then she saw the ship for the second time. Though the schooner was mostly hidden, the four black sails could be seen, reaching above the leaves of the mangrove, like a dark specter. Now she could fully understand why merchant ships would surrender upon sight, for the black hull and black sails were indeed intimidating. She was taken by surprise for she had thought the ship long gone. By Edward's estimation it should have been half way to Bermuda, but here it was tarrying still. She felt sure it had been hiding in and out of the mangroves, avoiding the red sails, while waiting for some unprotected vessel to happen by. She shivered where she stood, for it was not far off, perhaps only a distance of four miles. Not sure why no one had raised the alarm, her heart raced as she left her position in the aftcastle and hurried to find Edward and inform him. Just as she reached the cabin door he appeared, his face troubled. "Isabella? Thy heart is racing. What ails thee?"

"I am fine, but I've spied the pirate ship again, it is just on the near western horizon."

Edward and Carlisle rounded the corner to the stern in a flash. "Aye, it is." her husband muttered.

Carlisle shouted out. "Brady! Take the spyglass and hie thee to the crow's nest. Tell me the ship."

Brady was not more than a stripling, he was limber and quick and had obviously won the position of lookout due to those talents for he scaled the tallest mast and was in the crow's nest before too long.

He yelled down, "Sir, 'tis a schooner with black sails, the same flag as from last night." He shimmied down and came over."Ah cannae make out the mark but looks like 'tis hell bent for the line of black mangrove. Might be they spotted the red sails and have cut and run for shelter."

Edward smiled. "No need to fret, Isabella. Thou will not be witnessing bloodshed this morning. What I said last night, I'll say again, this time with my brother here to attest to my veracity. I will kill every last soul on any vessel in the blink of an eye if they were to make one move hither. They know it and I know it, the only one who is uncertain is thee. Do not concern thyself. We are in no danger."

"I believe thee, darling, but what of others? Those pirates are obviously lying in wait for some poor unsuspecting merchant ship. They are certainly planning to steal and possibly even kill innocents."

"Yes. That is very likely what they are planning to do."

She was stunned by his calm. "But are thee going to do nothing about it?"

"Isabella what wouldst thou have me do?"

"I don't know, but is it moral to just let them do as they wish?"

"I have no other course, unless I were to kill everyone on that vessel to prevent a future attack on a merchant frigate. And I cannot comprehend that you would allow me to do that. I doubt that you would hold that to be a just action."

She huffed, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Edward, I am not advocating that anyone be killed. I am simply saying that thou must do something; perhaps just giving them a warning would suffice."

He held her arms to her side and bent low to peer into her face. "Isabella, these are pirates. This is their trade, the path that they have chosen for their livelihood. Simply put, they are criminals who have lurked and attacked unsuspecting ships before and they will do so again. No warning from me will sway them from their intent."

"Edward does thou not think that there lies a moral obligation?"

He shook his head in exasperation and released her arm, glancing towards his brother over her shoulder. "I fear for thee, for I can see that this will weigh heavily on thy mind. The truth is that I am neither a judge nor an executioner, unless it affects me or mine directly. I am not the giver of morality, each man embraces his own. We spoke on this when we talked of Kumara. You reminded me that injustice is visited upon all manner of people. None of us can prevent evil nor can we alter man's inhumanity to man. This is one of the dilemmas you will encounter; how to use thy power without misusing it."

She pursed her lips and looked away, she knew what he said had truth in it yet she did not want to surrender her humanity to this situation. Walking back to the aftcastle she leaned against the rail staring hard at the spot where she had last seen the ship, vowing to show bravery and not to shrink from it in fear. Edward joined her and held her about the waist as they sailed on toward St. Augustine

The nearer they came the more she sought to ferret out the black sails among the mangrove trees, but the wily ship had gone down one of the many inlets to avoid detection.

~BTWDS~

The coast of the Spanish Territory of Florida as they neared it was green and treacherous with the spreading roots of the low mangrove trees. Suddenly there was a break in the flora and the blue green waters of Matanzas Bay appeared. Captain McCarty sailed the brigantine into the inlet, masterfully avoiding the shoals and sailing directly to the pier. They reached their destination and dropped anchor just after noon.

Edward and Isabella disembarked and came ashore near the Castillo de San Marco, the _coquina _stone fortress that the Spanish had built after the city was burned to the ground almost two hundred years before. Edward related that it was his own captain, Sir Francis Drake who had attacked and set the city afire, but the city had risen again as the phoenix from the ashes. They entered the town through the high city gates and walked down the narrow cobblestone streets, framed on each side by high walls which enclosed the homes and yards. Edward showed her the small school house which had been built forty years before.

The town of St. Augustin was a city rich in merchants and trade; any and all things that could be bought and sold. Merchant and trade shops lined the cobblestone streets, each with their colorful wares displayed outside. Tradesmen and services such as blacksmiths, leatherworkers and chandleries stood side by side next to the exotic wares from across the seven seas. Lush pearls and silks from the orient, pottery from Delft, spices and colorful rugs from the souks of Marrakech, gems from the Amazon and copper pots from France.

Although St. Augustin was under the ruling hand of Spain, which had forbidden commerce with the English colonies, the local authorities looked the other way. Merchants from all over the Atlantic colonies and the Caribbean came and did business within the port of St. Augustin. The Cullens were well known and had many connections here in St Augustin as well as in other ports, so it was easy for Edward to secure a room and a meal for Isabella while they waited for the brigantine to be loaded with more goods and fresh food and water and ready for departure again.

Edward took Isabella's arm as they strolled past the school, past the treasury, by merchants' shops, and small homes on their way to their destination. Isabella was intrigued by the bustling city. The architecture of the homes here were unique and quite different from any she had seen before. The front doors were set into plain walls and above each entry was a second floor terrace which ran the length of the building, high walls enclosed the attached yards so that there was utmost privacy. Isabella reflected on how different the look of this place was to her own hometown; there were almost no fences in Pfalzburg, other than those erected to pen in the farm animals. Perhaps, she thought, the high walls were there to further protect each home from attack, as the citizens here must be well aware of their history. As she continued her walk down the streets, Isabella glanced behind her and saw the rows and rows of terraces that looked down on the activity below. She wondered if the purpose of these terraces was to give the families and town folk a place to sit at night so that they could enjoy the cool evenings until they retired to bed. Then again maybe they were there to allow the residents a place from which to attack any enemy that would enter the town. The possibilities aroused a curiosity in her and she longed to share this new experience with her dear father, who would enjoy discussing the town and its history. In that moment she missed him so much.

She and Edward passed the plaza, framed by the Cathedral on the western side to face the rising sun. Her husband led her down the narrow _calle San Felipe _to the home of Edward's acquaintance, Senor Antonio de Fernandez y Mesa. The accommodation was not lavish, it was a simple house, but the Senor and his wife, Carmen, greeted Isabella with a warm welcome. While the Senor and Edward went to go and speak about mutual business they had in Havana, the eldest daughter, Caterina, showed Isabella to a bedroom and instructed the servant to bring pitchers of water for her. Off the bedroom was a small wooden balcony, with three wooden steps leading to the inner courtyard. The terrace was enclosed by framed tubs of climbing trumpet vine which shielded it on three sides from the harsh sun and prying eyes. The servant showed her there and set up a wooden screen. Isabella waited there until the servant brought a large enamel bowl and put it on the low wooden table, she then proceeded to fill it with pitcher after pitcher of water, adding a small amount of tincture flor de naranja.

After a thorough wash up, Isabella returned and sat next to her husband at the large table in the dining room where they were served a rice and chicken dish flavored with olives and capers from Spain. The de Fernandez y Mesa household was active as there were seven children and several servants living there. The children giggled and stared at her as she ate, their dark eyes seeming to take in everything she and Edward did with awe and kind humor.

Isabella was talking to Senora de Mesa when the youngest toddled over to stand next to her chair and reached her chubby arms up to be lifted. Isabella was more than happy to oblige and hoisted the little girl up and sat her on her lap. When Senora de Mesa teased Isabella saying that she was getting needed practice and would soon have a child of her own, she caught the quick turn of Edward's head as he waited for her reaction. Isabella shook her head at her hostess and laughed, allowing the little one to play with her long curls before she was taken away by the servant a few minutes later.

After bidding the family good-bye, Edward and Isabella returned to the harbor where _Cullen's Fancy _was ready and waiting for them. As when they left Virginia, Edward and Isabella waited by the rails of the aftcastle until the shore was out of sight. He stood behind her, sheltering her in the circle of his embrace.

"When will we arrive at your island?" she asked dreamily.

"From here it is less than one days' journey until we cross the great current, then it is two more days until we reach L'isle des Oiseaux; but that is dependent on the weather. We will hug the coast to avoid the northward current until we must cross it, then we will enter the Caribbean Sea. If all goes well and we do not encounter a squall we should be there by day's end on the third day."

"Oh, I cannot wait to see our home."

"And I cannot wait to share it with thee. It is quiet, except for the call of the sea and the island birds. There are so many, their plumes so colorfully displayed, and all different from the ones in northern climes. It is the most beautiful place on earth, almost as beautiful as thee." and as he finished he bent his head to kiss her tenderly on the curve of her ear and then drifting his lips to peck one pink cheek.

"You flatter me with thy wonderful words." She whispered, cheek to cheek staring into the distance. His arm drifted to clasp at her ribcage as he pulled her in a little tighter. "Does no one else live on your island?"

"No. When we are away and hire caretakers then others live there. There are a handful of homes on the island, where servants have sometimes stayed; but it is easier if no one is there if I am alone."

"Cousin Michael Newton had said that you had a mistress on the island, a mulatto. I thought perhaps you had servants."

"I did hear him repeat the rumor, but it is no more than that."

"So there will be no one else there? Just my husband and I?" she turned her chin a little and kissed the hair that curled against his strong jaw, thinking how she could never tire of touching him or receiving his caresses.

"Just my wife and I." he nodded. They stood quietly for a few minutes and then Edward whispered in her ear holding her gently in his arms.

"Isabella, I noticed how lovingly you embraced the youngest child of the family. I did not think to ask before but tell me is there something in you that desires a child of thine own?"

She turned about in his arms, holding him about the middle, her hands holding his strong back. Looking up into his dear face she saw and wondered about the questioning look on his furrowed brow. "It is something I suppose would have come to pass if I ever got married, but it is not something I have necessarily set my heart on."

"Art thou certain?" he inquired, his eyes stared unblinkingly into hers searching for some hesitation.

With a sigh she continued, "Edward, I fear I have had an unusual upbringing in that respect. Due to my mother's ill health when bearing children, I have always dreaded the news that she was with child rather than looking forward to it as most young girls do. Though I have never feared having a child, I have not dreamt about it either. Indeed I have not in memory dwelled on the possibility of having a child of my own. Mayhaps it was because I was not thinking of marriage at all until a few days ago. Why does thou ask?"

A look of concern crossed his features and his eyes narrowed as though he wanted to search the depths of her soul. "In the event that I have not made it clear, I must tell you that we will not be able to have children. I simply am unable to give that to you."

"Truly Edward, I knew that. And I assure thee it is of no great import to me, for I have not yearned for it."

"Once you are changed you will no longer be fertile either." He pressed on as if wanting her understand thoroughly. "I'm afraid it is one of the shortcomings of our existence. Mortals have the power to create life," he said wistfully, "we do not."

She shook her head. "I did not even think on it. There was so much else to think on, my marriage, my mother's health and the voyage. Honestly, the process of being into an immortal has so consumed my thoughts I had no time to think of much else."

"Are thee sure?"

"Yes. Had I ever wanted it, the possibility is closed to me. So what is the purpose of asking me?"

He heaved a sigh and smiled a tight smile. "I suppose it is to know thy mind; and if perhaps it was a desire of yours to explain and commiserate with thee."

She put a tender hand at his cheek to reassure him. "There is no need for that, Edward. I promise thee that I have not longed for it. Ever."

"But you seem to hold Senor de Mesa's child with such affection.."

"Indeed I did." She chuckled. "I think it is because babies are not as bashful as adults, they ask for what they need openly and without fear. They demand without words our love and care. And as adults we give it freely. Such was what occurred today. Little Irena wanted affection and I gave it, no more, no less. So do not think it means anything deeper."

"I want to give thee all things but I feel that my desire to have thee has trumped all else. Until today, I had not even thought on the possibility that I was closing the door to something that you may have wanted." He said sadly.

"Edward, I love thee, and that is where I am today. It is hard enough knowing I will see my parents pass away, I would not be able to bear the grief of seeing my own child grow old and leave this world. I believe I am blessed in that I do not have siblings nor many relatives."

He held her more tightly in his arms, "I had never thought on it before I saw thee with that child, but had I been mortal, I would have loved to have a little one with thee."

"Oh, Edward."

That evening they retired to bed early, Isabella no longer even sparing a moment's thought on what the sailor's might think. She and Edward took their joy, lying in one another's arms. When he finally held her naked and pliant, he smelled her body and groaned with unbridled lust. "I love the smell of thee, Isabella. But next time wash with only water and do not bathe with scented oils, for I love the natural smell of thee. Thy hair and skin, thy sweat and thy blood all come together in the sweetest fragrance."

"I thought the smell of sweet oils and perfumes were what men desired."

"Maybe mortal men, but not I; when you become immortal you will understand. The sense of smell is highly developed in our kind, and while I love the fragrance of the flowers, they belong to the garden. The perfumes are a distraction from your own divine fragrance.

"I love thy smell too. It is hard to define, for it is fragrant but not flowery. It is fresh as the spring breeze but enticing as any delicacy on earth."

"My smell calls to you dear one, more so than to anyone, for you are my other. As your smell calls to me. It is like a song. It is a call that is impossible to resist."

"Will I smell differently, and more like thee when I am changed? Since I will no longer have my blood and my sweat, will I lose my own fragrance?"

"I do not think so. I have no knowledge in this area, but like mortals, we all have our own unique smell. We may smell the same to you, but not to each other. I can tell by smell where another undead has been, their scent lingers for months. Perhaps it is a marker. I have not noticed a change in my brother's smell from when he was human, but then again I had never paid much attention to it way back then. I think you will smell like yourself but even more alluring, especially to mortals."

His words called to mind something she had worried about and she rested her head on his chest to look into his eyes. "Edward, I do not wish to lure men to their death like some ancient siren. While I am still human and I have the wherewithal to express my morality, I want thee to know that my desire is to live a just existence as an immortal. Promise me that you will keep me from becoming a sinner."

"I promise that I shall care for thee through the darkest times. My brother has not killed anyone since his change, so it is possible to live such an existence."

"And thee? Has thou lived a moral existence?"

He shrugged as he ran his hands lovingly down her back. "I have my own thoughts on morality, that may differ from thine. I see no immorality in striking down imminent evil, or in exacting revenge. You and my brother see it differently."

"I do see it differently. For myself, I cannot end another's life and consider it a good deed."

"And what if that person has done harm or intends to do harm?"

"I hope to dissuade them or to bring them to justice. That is my moral obligation."

"And what of the pirates? Would you not use your power against them if you could?"

"Yes but I would not kill them, I couldn't."

"Aaah, you say that now, but I wonder if you will see it differently if and when you witness their cruelty."

"I hope I would. I hope my capacity to hurt without fear of retribution does not lead me away from God."

"We shall see."

Just after sunrise the next morning, the rain came down and the wind picked up strength as _Cullen's Fancy_ hugged the coast, it was just minutes before they were to embark on the eastward path they were to make in order to cross over the strong northward current.

She lay in the arms of her husband as they listened to the keening wind and the creak of the brigantine as McCarty steered her onward.

"I think that we may be heading into a little squall, I hope thou hast the stomach for it, for many new sailors have become very sick from the movement of their ship."

"Does it seem like a terrible weather?" she inquired curiously. "Will it set us back some?"

"Aye, it might. And we have precious little of it to lose. Tomorrow makes a week since the ball, a week since I first made my mark. I fear we have but a few more days to make the change."

"I am in remarkably good health. I feel none of the ills you had predicted."

"That is because I have given my venom and taken thy blood many times. Thou are different from when I first saw thee. I feel that your senses are more sharp and that your desire for me is greater than it was. I would like to us to get there as soon as we can, for I feel the time now is critical. I sense that thou will become hungry for blood soon, and I..."

"Do not forget thy promise. Keep me from doing harm."

"I shall." He vowed with a tender kiss to her crinkled forehead. He then kissed her nose and then her lips. His hands moved under the quilt to uncover her naked breasts. "Now, let's get your mind off the rocking of this brig."

"How will we do that?" she asked coyly.

"By rocking the bed." he answered, whipping the cover off her completely. "The best way to forget seasickness is with strenuous activity."

His manhood slipped into her folds and she arched and gasped at the unexpected thrust. Before she could get used to the feel of his cock so fully seated in her, he pulled her hips higher. Sitting back on his haunches, he placed her legs over his wide shoulders. He held her hips in each hand as he pulled her more fully onto him. "Aaah" she moaned out, "I cannot imagine wanting to take blood more than doing this with thee."

"You will soon. So give me as much of your sweet quim until that time comes, hmm?."

"As much as you want, whenever." she smiled up at him.

And the squall came and went while the ship rocked with the force of nature.

~BTWDS~

Isabella awoke just before sunrise the next day; unable to remain abed, she went up on deck. She assumed that Edward was again with Carlisle for he was not out there to see the sunrise on a new day. She was on the starboard side when she felt a strange tug in her chest.

Her eyes scanned the starlit waters before coming to rest on the sloop. Although it was only a mile or so away, it was hard to see for it was hidden by the mangrove thicket. It was careened as if for repair into a sand bar, the mangrove and rocks keeping it from moving in the ebb and flow of the waves. The fore and aft sail was down dragging into the swirling salty water. It was an unexpected sight, for other than the pirate ship, she had not seen another vessel at sea. There was strange stillness to the sloop, and her now keen sense of smell registered that something was amiss. There was the strong smell of Madeira, and as the sun neared the horizon, the water surrounding the sloop appeared to run to a darker color.

Her lips barely formed the first syllable of his name before Edward was by her side. He held her trembling shoulders in his palms. "Isabella, go below." He told her quietly.

"What is wrong?"

"There has been an attack. 'Tis gruesome, I fear."

"The sea runs red." She murmured to herself, then the shock of the realization hit her. "Is it Madeira?"

"Yes and no. 'Tis blood also. Human blood, and plenty of it. By my estimation at least twenty were killed."

"Dear God!" she gasped. "But why?"

"Cruelty. Profit. Pleasure. 'Tis hard to say why."

"Oh Edward!" she gasped and held her fingers to her lips, trying to reign in a cry.

He pulled his wife into his arms, noting that her body was still warm from their bed. "Go below, my dear. Now." Edward instructed. "Carlisle and I will go to the wreck and take a look."

Isabella shook her head as she stared in dread at the quiet ship. "I will not go below. I can't hide and pretend it is not real."

"Carlisle!" Edward sighed and only then did she notice that his brother was there with them. "I cannot leave her alone. Please take Riley with thee and check. I feel that there is at least one alive. Barely."

"Aye. I think there is one. The heart is faint but it beats." Carlisle looked into Isabella's eyes, his own were filled with sadness. "Dear sister, do not dwell on the inhumanity you see. It will only cause thee sorrow. Realize that although sometimes it may not seem so, there is far more goodness in the world than evil. Hold that truth dear and it will carry you through the darkest of days." With that he left the deck climbing down into the little dory that had been released by Riley for the journey toward the other vessel. With Carlisle rowing they got there in no time and Isabella saw them climb the rope ladder to the sloop's deck. She stared at that spot on the sand bank, hoping fervently for survivors to appear.

Captain McCarty guided_ Cullen's Fancy _ever closer until they were about two hundred yards from the sand bank, which was as close as the shallow water would allow. The sun was nearing the eastern horizon, though it had not crested the edge of it yet. The pink predawn glow now brought a little more color to the blue tinged world. Isabella could see more clearly that the rocks and mangrove shrubs formed a natural containment and the water inside was stained with a deep red that seeped pink into the surrounding surf. Isabella gazed at the red and pink tide thinking that she had never seen so much wine in her life. Some barrels of wine had tumbled from the slanted deck of the careened sloop and lay broken on the rocky shoal, the red liquid spilling out.

Then Isabella heard it. A slight moan reached her ears followed by the faintest cry, a cry that could not be mistaken for anything but what it was. "Oh sweet lord, there's a babe on board that ship. Edward, we must go to it. I must." And she took a few steps toward the edge of the ship. He knew she intended to dive off the side of the vessel.

"Isabella, no." he held her firmly. "We are higher up than you realize and the water here is shallow, you will break your neck."

She struggled to get out from under his tight grip. "Release me, please." She begged. "I promise that I will not jump. I shall climb down the ladder, but I must go and see if the baby needs me."

"NO!" he held her even tighter. "You cannot help. No one can help."

"Bbbut there is a baby.."

"Yes. The wee one is dying."

Her heart tumbled in her breast. "That cannot be, we can help. We should do something."

"My brother is trying, Isabella. But I fear it is of no use. The child's mother is near death. He will not survive without suckling."

"What will Carlisle do?"

Edward shrugged. "We are at least two days from land. The child is a lost soul. He will starve to death without his mother's milk. Carlisle will make it easier for him to die."

Isabella recoiled from Edward in horror. "Do you mean he will kill him?"

"It will be merciful."

"LET ME GO!" she cried. "Let me go this instant! Or I will never forgive thee."

Edward was furious, his face drawn in lines she had never seen before. "I will not let thee go, Isabella. There is nothing you can do. The babe is dying, you would regret seeing this horror to the end of thy days."

She too was furious and she shouted at him. Her face was red and tight with anger. The morning sun was over the horizon, highlighting everything in the stark reality of the new day. This was no dream. The sailors stood on the other side, loathe to come close to the couple as they stood there locked in their battle of wills.

"How do you know?" she bit out, fists tightly balled as though she would like nothing better than to strike her husband. "You think I am nothing because I am a mere mortal? You think there is nothing I can offer? You are the one who can offer nothing. You and your kind are not gods, you are monsters. You give nothing. You only take lives."

Edward felt his silent heart break. "Isabella, please! I am trying to protect you from unspeakable horror."

"You cannot protect me, nor do I want you to. You have no idea what is going on. Perhaps I can soothe and help. Even if there is no hope, I can lend some tenderness." And she continued to struggle. "I know now that you do not have a heart." And she bent her head and closed her eyes and wept bitter tears.

Her husband released his grip on her elbows and reached around to enfold her in his arms. "Do not touch me! I cannot bear it. " she cried and wriggled away from him. She stood a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest as she held herself tightly, sobbing. She heard another faint cry and looked at him with accusing eyes, tears streaming down her red cheeks. Seeing his beloved in such a state this broke his will, he had to let go of his deep desire to shelter her from the world's ills.

"Isabella. What can I do, for thee? To ease thy sadness."

"Do not treat me as a child. I want to help, I need to. Let me help in any way I can."

He nodded. "I will go and bring the babe here. But I need a promise from thee."

"What?"

"I beg of thee. Please do not push me away, again. When this is all said and done, and when the babe dies in your arms, I want thee to try not to hate me for being the monster that I am." And before she could answer he was gone.

Drying her tears, she returned to the side of the vessel again. In a matter of seconds she saw Edward standing on the slanted deck of the wrecked sloop, and then he was gone from sight. Holding her breath, she hoped to hear a cry, evidence that the little one was still alive. But the other vessel was still, even the surf only lapped gently on the rocks, it was dead calm.

Captain McCarty came over and stood by her. "Yer husband is a good man, lass. It was sure death fer ye if ye would've jumped from the ship, ye know. I cannae say why yer angry at him fer something that was not his doin', lass. But I know women, and I know ye get het up when yer feelin' sad and helpless."

Isabella thought on his words. She had been angry at her husband and though he'd not been the root cause of the problem, he had tried to manhandle her into doing what he wanted.

"I know he's a good man Captain. Thank you for caring about him the way you do. I am sorry if I was loud and undignified.

"That's not it lass. There's no one here who does not understand your reason for yellin' and cryin'. We've all had our sorrowful moments when we witness carnage and death. I don't know what horrors be aboard that sloop but yer man would not be the man I thought he was if he'd have let ye see what's gone on there."

"I suppose you're right Captain. I heard the baby cry and some mothering instinct in me wanted to soothe."

"Oh. I dinna hear a cry. Perhaps me hearin's goin' out on me. A babe ye say?"

"Yes, I heard a faint cry, and Edward heard it too. He's gone to see if he can bring the babe here."

"Ah lass. That way is the way of further sorrow. The wee one canna survive the trip to the islands."

Isabella looked into McCarty's one blue eye. "I must try and do what I can." And she walked away from him for she did not want to think further on it. The babe may not survive, but how can they think of leaving it here to die?

It was quite some time before her husband returned to the deck. Isabella was near ready to holler. Then she saw them, Riley climbed down into the waiting dory first. He held it steady, one hand on either side. Edward had a little swaddled bundle over his shoulder, and he held on to it with one hand as he used the other to climb down the rope ladder. Isabella's heart leapt into her throat when she heard the faint mewling cry as he handed the little one to Riley. Edward climbed back up to the slanted deck of the ship where he and Carlisle held the two ends of a hammock. The ends of the hammock were tied with scraps of fabric to extend the length. The deck of the careened sloop was at least twenty feet above the dory and they lowered the hammock gently down. In seconds they both had jumped down and into the little vessel. Edward held the babe as Carlisle rowed the little dory over to the brigantine.

Isabella ran to the side of the boat and peered down. Lying in the bottom of the boat swaddled in the hammock was a young woman, not more than twenty years old. Her face was pale from loss of blood and the hammock had red spots which showed the seepage of blood from her wounds. Isabella could hear the raspy, shallow breathing and the slight thump of her heart beating.

Edward brought the babe up the ladder and handed the little bundle to Isabella. "The child has not suckled for some time. We found him crying in a little basket. The mother is very badly injured. She has lacerations to her arms and trunk. See if thou can get water into the babe." With that Edward retreated down the ladder and proceeded back up in seconds with the ends of the makeshift rope.

"Isabella, get the babe to drink." He instructed again. "GO!"

Needing no further urging she carried the little bundle to the cabin. She searched her valise for a clean handkerchief and dipped it into the pail of fresh water and squeezed out a bit of the excess. She held it to the little one's blistered lips and he latched on and immediately started sucking. Isabella heard the footfalls and the rustle of movement outside the cabin door as they brought the mother into Carlisle's room across the hall.

Edward peered in. "Have the babe suck, but go slowly. We have no idea how long he has been without liquid. If it has been very long he may vomit. Let him suck and the remove it for a minute and then let him suck again."

"How is his mother?" she inquired.

"She has been badly injured. I fear she will not make it. She has been severely beaten and kicked, there are boot marks on her back and sides. There is an injury to her head, her eyes are vacant. There are several deep cuts near her ribs and I believe she has been violated."

"Oh dear God."

"We brought her aboard hoping to see if we can keep her alive so that the little one can feed from her breast. Carlisle needs your sewing kit to sew up her wounds. Did you bring it?"

"It is in my valise over there. It is in the little embroidered pouch. I have stuck the needle in my embroidery hoop."

Edward quickly found the bag and took the whole thing with him.

The babe had sucked enough and was tired. His little face was drawn in a frown. His silky eyelashes lay in soft feathered crescents over the sunken skin under his eyes. She ran a tender finger over his soft cheek. "Why, little one, why? Why are you not safe from harm? You should be nestled in the soft arms of thy mother." She picked up his soft little hand and kissed his little fist. His fist opened and his little fingers closed around her thumb, holding it tight. She stared at their clasped hands, seeing his five little fingers holding fast, holding on to her as if trying to hang on to life.

She left the room with the babe in her arms and went looking for Riley. She found him sitting on a barrel looking out to sea. "Riley?" he did not answer for he was lost in his thoughts. "Riley?" she called louder and when he turned his head toward her she could see the moisture in his eyes.

His voice was choked and sad. "Aye Mrs Cullen? Ye have the little scrapper sleepin', I see."

"I do. He's taken some water. Do we have any lard or fat on board? I need a salve for his lips. They are dry and bleeding."

"We have a bit of bacon grease, we do. Captain McCarty always keep some on hand if we need to fry some fish."

"Can you fetch a bit for the babe?" He nodded. "And perhaps some vinegar and some dried fruit. If you can find some."

"Aye, I'll do anythin' for the little mite. 'Tis not fair that he's 'ad such a 'ard time of it."

"That is the truth. How are you holding up?"

"I've 'ad better days ma'am. The carnage aboard the sloop was terrible. Dead bodies n' arms and legs n' blood everywhere. I'm glad we got the little one and his mum. Just 'ope they make it."

"I do too. Thank you Riley. Can you bring the grease to the cabin? I want to give the little one a bit more water."

Isabella returned to her cabin and proceeded to put the wet handkerchief to the little one's mouth again. He sucked strongly but after a few seconds he began to cry. She tried to soothe him but he was inconsolable. She held him close to her chest and wiped his tears with her thumb. When his mouth felt her finger at his cheek he turned his lips to suck. "Poor little hungry one." she lamented, starting to cry as well. Edward brought the bacon grease, a bottle of vinegar and a jar of honey, and she looked at it and then up at him.

"No dried fruit? I was hoping to put a little in some water so that he can have a bit of nourishment in him."

"There is none, but Carlisle says that we may try putting him on her breast for feeding. Would you like to help?"

Isabella hesitated for a few moments and Edward interjected. "I can do it, if you prefer not to." he said as he reached out to take the crying babe from her arms.

She shook her head. "I'll do it." she said. "I think I should be the one." And on trembling legs she followed Edward to the other cabin.


End file.
